Journey to the East
by kedrann
Summary: The Occident and the Orient often have different ways of handling things. When this concerns the British Wizarding World and the Japanese Yokai, things can get interesting, in the Chinese meaning of the word. Hermione-centric, merged AU.
1. The Polyjuice Incident

_Author note: This is something I came up with as my Buffyverse muse is currently on strike. I hope you will enjoy it._

 _The Harry Potter timeline has been moved by ten years (2001 being Harry's first year in Hogwarts in this story) to better mesh with the Rosario + Vampire manga start around 2004, as the R+V universe is more technology-dependent._

 _ **Disclaimer**_

 _ **Summary:**_ _The Occident and the Orient often have different ways of handling things. When this concerns the British Wizarding World and the Japanese Yokai, things can get interesting, in the Chinese meaning of the word. Hermione-centric, merged AU._

 _ **Fandom I do not own anything of:**_

 _\- Harry Potter_

 _\- Rosario + Vampire (manga)_

 _\- Jurassic Park (comes later in the story)_

 _While the universe is not directly used as a crossover, some concepts of 3x3 Eyes will make their apparition in this story._

 _ **Rating:**_ _FR18_

* * *

"Now Hermione, the treatment for this is not very complicated but it is slow. The partial animal transfiguration has to be undone progressively using a mix of spells and potions to make sure you do not suffer damage," said Madam Pomfrey.

The catgirl sitting on the bed nodded, sniffing. At least she wouldn't stay stuck like that. A short time ago, she had been readying for an infiltration mission in the Slytherin dorms. The goal had been for Harry, Ron and her to discover more about the Heir of Slytherin and hopefully discover how to end the whole mess with the Chamber of Secrets. Except she had made a mistake. While the Polyjuice had worked perfectly for Harry and Ron, allowing them to transform into Crabbe and Goyle, the hair she had retrieved from Millicent Bulstrode had not come from the girl, but from her cat. Polyjuice was not made for cross-species transformation and the victim ended in a hybrid – and potentially biologically defective – state that, contrarily to a same-species transformation, would not revert after the end of the potion's effect.

So, here she was, feeling very uncomfortable. Her fur was itching in the worst way against her robes and the changes to her other senses were making her dizzy. She had trouble concentrating and she didn't trust her reaction if someone did something like dangle some yarn in front of her or worse, scratched her behind the ears.

"Can we start? I'm… before I do something cat-like?"

"Of course," replied Pomfrey while taking a potion vial out of a cupboard. "Professor Snape will need to brew your treatment but this will already help you by neutralizing any ongoing effect of the Polyjuice that may remain. Once you have drunk it, I will cast a few spells to help it along."

Hermione gulped the vial without hesitation, ignoring the foul taste. She had no intention of spending a second more than necessary in that state. She lay back on the bed, refraining from swearing about the whole tail issue and particularly about how sensitive it was. Instead, she tried to remember what the potion was doing. It was probably some kind of general antidote that helped neutralize any potion that could have been in her organism. The spells Madam Pomfrey was now casting looked more like dispels of some sort, targeted on some key points. She could already feel the strain they caused on her magical core…

She screamed, arching her back as black geometric patterns tinged in purple light appeared on her skin. She could not see Pomfrey starting to panic as this unwanted reaction, nor could she observe herself, which would have probably let her analytical mind deduce that the patterns on her body looked distorted, forced into a corrupted shape. All she could do was continue to scream as the patterns shattered with a crystalline sound.

The pain receded, just enough for her to catch her breath. Feeling a metallic taste in her mouth, she managed to turn around and heaved. She vaguely felt her skin starting to flake, the fur the Polyjuice had given her falling apart but she didn't have time to wonder about it. She let out another scream as she felt the bones of her face rearrange themselves, the feline muzzle turning back into something more human, her ears migrating back to their original position. She barely managed to spit out her semi-feline teeth as they were pushed out of her jaw, replaced by new ones, not that those were any less sharp than the cat ones.

She could feel her tail ripping itself apart, her nails being forced away, replaced by new ones like her teeth. She clawed at the bed, not realizing that the pointed nails were gouging through the mattress as if it was tissue paper. A last bit of pain finally erupted from the top of her head and she managed to pass out.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was looking at the… girl sleeping. A few minutes ago, his phoenix familiar Fawkes had started to panic and the school wards had reacted to an immense amount of a very peculiar kind of dark magic. The kind that usually went with creatures like vampires. All the school house elves and the ghosts had felt it as well. Some of the former had come to peek, whispering about the Ancient Ones while the latter…

 _Well, the reactions of the House Ghosts were interesting to say the least._

The Fat Friar had signed himself profusely before saying he would try to fetch his old exorcism kit. The Grey Lady had not said much but Dumbledore had little doubt that she knew exactly what Hermione Granger had become. Sir Nicholas... had not been able to say anything, unfortunately. He had been one of the victims of the attacks of those last months and currently laid petrified in a nearby room. No doubt he would have been worried at the idea of her rooming with his Gryffindors. The most interesting reaction had been that of the Bloody Baron, who had told him she should be re-sorted. From what Dumbledore had managed to decipher of the ancient Saxon dialect the Baron used when he grumbled, he had said something about bringing back some true nobility in Slytherin… which left little doubt that the Baron knew exactly what Hermione was, too.

 _Thankfully, the students and most of the teachers just felt some unease for a moment… Miss Lovegood excepted._

The first year Ravenclaw was, according to the portraits, even more agitated than usual. Given what just transpired in the hospital wing, he could not fault her, particularly if she had the Sight as he had been led to believe. He could count on one hand the occasions where a member of this species had been seen in Britain since the time of the Roman Invasion.

 _I wonder…_

He had known that there were some inconsistencies in Hermione Granger's background, particularly the fact that her maternal grandfather was completely unknown. He had sometimes wondered if the girl's mother was not in fact a squib born from an affair between a wizard and a muggle. Pureblood sons being a little… adventurous before they settled in their arranged marriage was certainly not unheard of. Could it instead have been that 'man' he encountered forty years ago as part of his duties with the International Confederation of Wizards?

"Albus… what is she?" asked Pomfrey. "I mean; she cannot be…"

They were both looking at the two most obviously inhuman traits Hermione Granger now sported. Both were situated on her head. The first was a pair of small golden horns coming out of her bushy hair. The second was the third eye in the middle of her brow.

"In the British Isles, we would call her race Fomorians, Poppy… make sure she stays asleep for now. We have no idea how this may affect her personality."

"We cannot keep her like that for long."

"No, we can't. Thankfully, there is someone I can contact who has a lot more experience with all sorts of creatures than I do."

* * *

Tenmei Mikogami, headmaster of the Yokai Academy, was relaxing in his quarters. This place was one of the few where he discarded the white monk robes people had come to associate with him. Not that he was really a monk, a priest or even Christian, despite the crosses he often used and the friends and contacts he had among the priesthoods of various religions. His garb had been chosen with care to not match any monastic order in any significant way, something his Jesuit friend had helped him to put together when he created this public persona. Some of his female friends had flat out told him that it was a shame that he hid such goodness under loose robes.

He lifted his head, abandoning his reading as he felt something come through the school's wards. He wondered briefly if one of his spellcasting students had played with summoning again but his usual, slightly sadistic smirk turned into a sigh when he noticed the red and gold bird who had just landed on the handrail of the balcony. He toyed briefly with the idea of letting his youki flare a little bit, just enough to see the phoenix squirm. He let the urge pass. He had spotted the letter the bird was holding in his beak and got up to open the balcony's French door. He had a good idea of who this bird belonged to. Even though they disagreed on quite a few points, they respected each other.

"Fawkes, I presume?" he asked, extending his hand.

The phoenix let the message fall into his hand. It was rather obvious that the magical bird was rather unhappy to be here, probably knowing that he was in front of one of the few beings that could permanently kill him. Tenmei just read the message. As he had suspected, it was from Albus Dumbledore and it said that one of his students just went through a very unexpected evolution. The message also included a small family tree of said student which pointed quite bluntly at a certain hole in the child's lineage.

"Danielle…" he said with a smile as he noticed the maiden name of the girl's maternal grandmother. "Guess that million-to-one chance was a nine out of ten in the end," he added, paraphrasing one of his favorite authors.

He looked at Fawkes who was obviously waiting for him to state his intentions.

"I know you won't like it, but can you transport me to Hogwarts? This is important," he asked to the phoenix.

The bird trilled affirmatively.

"Give me a few minutes to gather a few things."

He went to his study and filled a satchel with a few emergency tools, before redonning his robes. It would have to do, at least until he could bring her back to the school for more thorough exams.

* * *

Hermione woke and wondered briefly if this was how a hangover felt. She remembered Madam Pomfrey starting the treatment to rid her of the effects of the Polyjuice and then… nothing. No that wasn't exactly true. There was some kind of ludicrous nightmare where she was wrestling with a monk in white robes who called her Mina-chan.

As she raised her arm to rub her brow, she interrupted the move to look at the bracer around her right wrist. It was made of silvery links maybe an inch long, each inlaid with a golden cross. The links formed a chain going thrice around her wrist and the ends were closed by a small padlock. From the way it snugged around her wrist, the only way to remove it without breaking it was to open the padlock.

It was then that she noticed another thing. The bedroom she was in wasn't in Hogwarts. She was quite used to the castle's medieval stones and what she was seeing around her was different. The walls and the furniture were gothic, but more in a nineteenth century Romantic interpretation of the term. There were also several modern appliances like the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, the electric lamps and the hi-fi system next to the desk.

 _Nearly noon… if that clock is on time._

She got up slowly, noticing she was wearing a white shirt designed for a man a lot bigger than herself as a nightshirt. Well, not Hagrid big, but definitely in the tall and broad shoulders department. She blushed as she realized she wasn't wearing anything else.

 _Wait… where is the fur? The tail?_

Noticing that one of the bedroom's doors seemed to give on a bathroom, she rushed there and looked at her reflection. Her face was… mostly human. Shaking, her hand went first to the small conical, yellowish growths she could see pointing out of her hair. Touching them, she realized they were attached to her skull. But, as disturbing as the fact she now had horns was, the main offender was her eyes. All three of them were staring at her form her reflection in the mirror. The golden irises were not that bad but the third eye in the middle of her brow was another matter.

She screamed, hoping to wake up in Hogwart's hospital wing after another nightmare. She let herself fall on the ground and sat against the bathroom's wall, face in her knees. She sobbed, not wanting to think about the tears she could feel coming out of that eye that shouldn't be there, not wanting to think about the fangs she could feel against her lower lip.

"Granger-san?" said a voice coming from the bedroom.

She continued to cry, not wanting to let anything distract her of getting into some comfortable numbness. When she felt arms hug her, she didn't even look up and just cuddled against the person's chest, barely noticing that the person was female.

"Here… I won't tell you it's all right," continued the person as Hermione noticed she spoke English with an accent. "It's a huge change you have to go through but it will be all right."

"All right? How? How can it be all right? I cannot…"

"There are techniques we will teach you, techniques to take a human appearance. Here, look!"

The woman lifted Hermione's chin. She was human, maybe in her late twenties, with sandy blond hair, blue eyes and glasses. She was also smiling gently at her but suddenly two locks of her hair changed shape, becoming cat ears while her eyes' pupils became slits. Hermione looked at them, her mind taken away from the fear, from the grief about her lost humanity. She watched as she saw them morph back into human features on the woman's face.

"I'm Miss Nekonome. I'm a teacher at the Yokai Academy in Japan, where you are now."

"What happened? I…"

"I don't know all the specifics. The headmaster brought you here two days ago, saying there was a problem with a potion while you were in Hogwarts. He has been checking on you, making sure your… changes would not cause too many problems. Unfortunately, he had to go away today, so he asked me to keep an eye on you. I will tell you what I can but for the rest, you will have to wait for the headmaster to come back, tonight at latest."

"'kay… I'm some kind of demon?"

"It depends what you mean by that. If you mean that in a Christian way, then the answer is: hell, no!" replied Miss Nekonome with a smile.

She could not help but smile a little bit at the woman's slight outburst. She wiped her tears, also remembering to dry her third eye.

"Right… so what kind?"

"I will answer this last question but you should take a shower after that. Then we can discuss more while we eat. That's all right?"

"Yeah…"

"Good. You will hear that your species is called by many names like Kishin, Rakshasa or Fomorian. You may already know the bad reputation attached to some of those names and yes, some members of your species were serious jerks. But you're a sentient creature. No matter what your instincts tell you or the affinity of your species with magics of death, darkness and destruction, you have a choice. Always remember that you have a choice, Granger-san, and prove the legends wrong."

Hermione raised her head. What the cat woman had said was right. Even with these changes in her body, she was still Hermione. She had already dealt with one life-changing experience when she learnt that magic was real and it didn't fundamentally change what she was. She was a girl with a love of knowledge, maybe a little bossy sometimes… though with Harry and Ron, it was for their own good in her opinion. They really needed someone to tell them to do their homework. She might be a demon but she would not be a monster.

"Thank you," she said as she got up and looked at the shower.

"One last thing before I let you shower: do not try to remove the chain around your wrist. You were not raised as a Kishin and you have no idea how to control your innate magic. The chain partially blocks it, meaning that you will have to make a conscious effort to activate it."

"I… I think I would have loved to have something like that while younger," she replied as she held her wrist in front of her face. "Some of the accidental magic I did was… embarrassing."

Miss Nekonome left her, saying something about fetching clothes. Hermione removed the shirt and got under the shower. She sighed with delight as the warm water cascaded down on her, chasing some of her stress away. Thankfully, apart from the two little horns and the third eye, there weren't other obvious demonic traits. She would really have freaked out if she had ended up with something like cloven feet.

 _Well, just the teeth,_ she thought as she ran her tongue along her fang-like eyeteeth.

As she washed her hair, she wondered if her horns would have a growth spurt, too. She would have to do some research about her new species' physical characteristics, maybe ask that headmaster Miss Nekonome had told her about.

She got out of the shower and dried herself. As she looked again at her reflection in the mirror, she realized that there were some definite pluses to this whole mess. For starters, even if she had fangs now, she had lost those buck teeth she hated so much. Her fangs weren't even that big, not big enough to hamper her speech…

On impulse, she started to smile. It was not a gentle or a radiant smile but a sadistic, toothy smirk that was quite amplified by her fangs and the fact that her eyes now seemed to shine slightly. She wondered about the effect that smile would have on Malfoy and she just knew that she would enjoy seeing him whimper at her fe…

Her smile faded as she remembered something Miss Nekonome had said: 'No matter what your instincts tell you'.

"Right… apex predator instincts probably."

She got her mind back on the pluses she had been listing, which brought her to the matter of her hair. From what her mother had told her of her own childhood, she had known that she would ultimately outgrow her 'bushy' phase and she was glad to see that her recent changes had helped on that matter. While still a little wild, her hair was also straighter now and she would probably be able to tame that beast in a reasonable time.

 _Well… it's actually not that bad. With the right hairband, the horns will be easily hidden and I can probably arrange my hair to hide my third eye. That should work until I know… okay, another point I didn't notice._

She was looking at her nails. She usually trimmed them short but they were now longer and pointed, though not unwieldly so. Following a hunch, she took a tissue paper and clawed at it. As she had feared, it was easily ripped to shreds. She continued her experiment, pushing her nails delicately against her palm. She was relieved to see that her skin was not pierced easily and wondered about the reasons. Did she have some kind of armor? Did it have something to do with the intent to destroy something?

She ran a nail along the towel, delicately, thinking that she just wanted to feel the cloth's texture. She smiled as she realized that her nail had just reacted like a human nail. She made another swipe without any particular thought behind it. Again, the towel was unscathed. In her initial test, she had expected the paper to be shredded.

 _It's intent… destruction magic of course! This is what Miss Nekonome meant about the chain making things require a conscious effort!_

There were probably other things but she would think about them later. She got back in the bedroom and found clothes laid on the bed. It was a school uniform, composed of a rather short light brown checkered skirt, a white shirt, a teal blazer with thin white borders, black knee-high socks and a red bow tie. There was also underwear which was the first thing she put on, then followed with the skirt, shirt and socks. There were no shoes but she found a pair of slippers… she lifted the man's shirt she had been wearing as a nightshirt and compared it with the slippers, coming to the conclusion that they probably belonged to the same person.

She exited the bedroom and found herself in a hall with several doors. She could hear some noise coming from the other end of the hall, where the dining room probably was. She was stopped by a sight that was always welcome for her: bookshelves.

 _I can spare a few minutes, just to look at the titles…_

She entered the library and nodded approvingly. The person who set this up took his books seriously. Two thirds of the room were occupied by mobile aisle shelving and the air in the room was kept at carefully controlled temperature and humidity by… yes, there were runes engraved in the threshold. Pairs of self-sizing cotton gloves were readily available and everything had been neatly catalogued. The languages in the catalogue were multiple: Japanese, Chinese, Sanskrit, Latin, Greek and many others. Finding a few of the English titles, she recognized some titles she had seen in Hogwarts, like the _Moste Potente Potions._ She exited the room without checking any further. If she started to open the rolling stacks or look at the books, she just knew that she would read avidly until someone forced her to get out. Thankfully, she was hungry and she still had many questions to ask to Miss Nekonome, which made resisting temptation easier.

She reached what was probably the house's – or the flat's, she wasn't sure about that – living room. It was a big room separated in three spaces. First a dining one with a table big enough for ten and then a well-equipped kitchen kept separate from the rest of the room by a bar. Miss Nekonome was there, putting their lunch together.

The purely sitting room part was slightly lower, separated from the rest by a single step that ran the full length of the room. There was a big L-shaped leather couch occupying the center of the space and facing a white screen, which led her eyes on the home cinema projector in the ceiling. As for the walls… more books, though paperbacks rather than ancient tomes and also a set of French windows leading to a balcony. She went there, noticing the overcast sky and the nearby forest that managed to look even creepier than the Forbidden Forest next to Hogwarts. That, despite the whole horror movie setting vibe, was not so much of a problem. The blood-red sea below the cliffs she could guess in another part of the landscape definitely was.

"How… where are we?" she asked, looking at the teacher.

"The school and the grounds around it reside in a dimensional pocket created by the headmaster," replied Miss Nekonome. "You don't have places like that in Britain?"

Hermione frowned but suddenly realized that, yes, she could think of several places falling in the same category. Diagon Alley, which had never been spotted by the air traffic above London and managed to stay completely unscathed despite the Germans bombing the city rather thoroughly during the Blitz. Platform 9¾ in King's Cross, in a place where a simple notice-me-not charm would have broken down under the level of scrutiny.

"A few, but… how big is it?"

"Roughly ten kilometers, with the school at the center."

"The headmaster must be a great wizard."

"Not in the sense you mean… there are some things I have to explain to you about Japan's magical society, it functions differently from Wizarding Britain. But first, let's eat!" replied the catgirl, motioning for Hermione to come join her at the kitchen's bar.

As she passed near the table to rejoin the teacher in the kitchen area, Hermione noticed the stack of tests the teacher had probably been busy grading while she was sleeping in that room. They were written in Japanese of course, but it wasn't what was interesting her. No, it was the fact the questionnaires were computer printed paper sheets and that the students used pens, not quills and parchment. Whatever other differences there were between the magical sides of Japan and Britain, the former seemed to have much less of a problem with modernity.

"Itadakimasu?" she said tentatively as she sat in front of Miss Nekonome, remembering a time she went to a Japanese restaurant with her parents.

"You know Japanese?"

"A few words here and there… I suppose I will have to learn," she replied, separating her chopsticks and starting to pick in the sushi plates between them.

"Well, what you just said is indeed correct but it means 'thank you for the meal' rather than 'enjoy your meal', which means the usage is different. As for learning… while it is always a good thing, you should discuss your options with the headmaster first."

"I supposed… the uniform."

"Just a temporary solution… unless you decide to transfer to Yokai, of course. We will go shop for some clothes this afternoon if you want. The headmaster left me funds for that."

"Why… why is he doing all that for me?"

Hermione thought about her experience in Hogwarts and how oblivious the teachers had been about some things like the bullying done by the Slytherin blood purists. She doubted that Dumbledore would go that far for any student, maybe except Harry, so why was a stranger…

"Let me rephrase: what is the relationship I have with your academy's headmaster?"

"Ah… Mina-chan, I am so glad to see that you inherited more than my good looks," said a male voice coming from another hall that she supposed led to the flat's entrance.

It was a very creepy man in white monk robes with a headdress that let only his face uncovered. She corrected herself: the headdress was not normal given the way the shadow that hid his eyes had nothing to do with ambient lighting and the way his eyes appeared as two points of ghostly white light. His smile was somewhat cruel… exactly like the one she had seen in the mirror a short while before.

"My name is Hermione… we're the same species, right?" she asked on a hunch.

"Very, very glad," replied the monk as he removed his headdress.

Without it, his face was handsome, surrounded by a wild mane of white hair. His stance changed a little bit, as if he was relaxing. Two golden, half-foot long horns came out of his head, starting above the temples and going up and backwards.

"If you're wondering why I do not have a third eye," he continued, "the answer is that it's not an automatic trait of our species, but something that appear only on a select few, usually the most… magically-inclined of us. For example, Balor had it."

"Wasn't he a cyclops?" she asked back, remembering that Miss Nekonome had told her that her species was called Fomorians and the role Balor played in Irish legends.

"The old bastard sacrificed two of his eyes to create his death gaze. Anyway, my name is Tenmei Mikogami, headmaster of the Yokai Academy. Things will be a lot simpler if you call me ojiisan or grandfather, though."

Grandfather… Since she knew about magic, Hermione had often wondered if her mysterious maternal grandfather was not a wizard. Officially, or rather from what her grandmother had said when she was still alive, her grandfather was an American scoundrel who got himself killed during the Vietnam war. Danielle Hawthorne had raised her daughter alone, making sure her child would be rational woman.

 _Did she know? If yes, what would have happened if she had still been alive when I had my first 'accidents'?_

"I think we have a lot to talk about," she said, eyeing him warily.

"Headmaster?" asked Nekonome.

"Please stay, Nekonome-san. Hermione will feel safer if you are here."

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey?" asked Harry as he entered the hospital wing. "Is it possible to see Hermione?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. She had to go see a specialist about her problem," replied the healer. "I don't think she will back before the beginning of the term. I am sure she will send you a message once she is well enough to write."

Harry left the Hospital Wing with a frown. Something was wrong here. Shortly after the Polyjuice incident, there had been something… like a feeling of dread seeping through the whole castle. Then some of the portraits had been chatting about a monk in white robes who was seen chatting with Dumbledore. It was also said that Peeves the poltergeist had flown screaming after catching a mere glance of said monk.

He didn't know what was happening. Was it related with the Chamber of Secrets? Was it something completely different? Where was Hermione? He couldn't shake the feeling that both Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were hiding something about her.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on one end of the couch, the headmaster at the other while Miss Nekonome had resumed grading her tests at the dining area table. The lunch had been… cordial she guessed. As messed up as the situation was, starting with her now being non-human and transported without her agreement to the other side of the planet, things were still more or less legit. Mikogami had shown her a note written by Dumbledore saying that she could trust his 'Japanese colleague' and that he wished her a speedy recovery. Her 'new' grandfather had also told her how she had been brought here, using a phoenix's teleportation ability. So she had decided to play along for now. She needed information before she could make intelligent decisions anyway.

"I met your grandmother in 1961," said Mikogami. "I was at that time helping Japan's ICW representative with a rather complicated dossier and had decided to use some of my free time to pay a visit to the British Museum… let's just say that we dated for a while but that things didn't work out. Your grandmother never told me she was pregnant but I had thankfully used a technique to seal my power when I dated her and the seal transferred to your mother… and you. One or two more generations and there would be have been too little of my blood left for anything to happen."

"I remember reading that Polyjuice doesn't work to copy half-humans… does that mean that half-humans cannot use it, too?"

"Indeed. The potion messed with your seal, particularly strongly because of the animal hair contamination. When the nurse started to apply the treatment to reverse it, she destroyed what was left. Had it happened elsewhere, you would probably have become a hybrid but Hogwarts was deliberately built on a chi nexus, a place where several ley lines cross. Your magic fed on it and pushed the mutation all the way, making you a pure Kishin."

"What happens now?"

"I see three solutions. Transferring to Yokai would probably be the simplest. You could spend a few months in our middle school to learn Japanese and then we could see about putting you in high school. However, the simplest does not necessarily mean the best. Unlike Hogwarts, Yokai is not centered around teaching sorcery as its goal is to help ayashi – magical creatures, which here in Japan also include wizards and witches – to mingle with the human world."

"It's… sorry but in Britain it's like the wizards don't care about that."

"There are some fundamental differences between Asia and Europe in this matter. While this is not the only reason, the fact wizards are a minority in Asia means that the magical society has a very different structure. You will also find that the Statute of Secrecy is applied differently here."

"Why?" asked Hermione, quite surprised. This was one of the most important laws of the wizarding world after all.

"You have to understand that the Statute was a European idea and exported to other countries with the colonial empires. You will therefore have several countries disagreeing with it even if no one – apart from some extremists – is actively fighting it at this point. My opinion is that the development of information technologies will make the Statute obsolete in the near future and that we ayashi must be ready for the aftermath. To get back on the possibilities I see, another that would be beneficial for your magical education would be to put you as an apprentice with a friend of mine. Do not get me wrong, I am a competent spellcaster, but my friend is the one who taught me magic. Whatever the solution we take, we will go see him so that he can examine you and also solve the problem of your wand."

"Do you have it?" she asked.

"Yes… can you try to use a simple spell?" he said while handing her the item.

"Easy… Lumos!"

She had to close her eyes. Instead of the small ball of light that should have appeared, she had created something with the intensity of a flak searchlight. She winced as she felt splinters hit her hand, her wand having shattered, sending fragments in the whole room. She gaped, horrified at the scorched remnant that was left in her hand.

"Exactly what I suspected: your wand was not adapted to you anymore and you need to get another one, with a larger channeling capacity. Do not fear, we will remedy to that in the next days. So… the third possibility is that you continue your education in Hogwarts. I will need to arrange for a few things but I have contacts in Britain I can use. In all cases, though, we need to speak to a few people before taking a decision."

"You mean…"

"Not Dumbledore, though we will have to talk about him. The man certainly has qualities, but he also has a rather strict stance regarding dark magic and he may be unwilling to let you back. No, before all, this is a family matter and we need to talk with your parents. Are they at home?"

"Yes… but with the time zones, it's probably too late."

"Can you write a letter? I will fax it to a friend of mine in Britain who has video conference equipment. We will organize a first meeting until we can make it so that we all meet in person."

* * *

Eldred Worple knew that many wizards would already have soiled their robes just by being here. In appearance, the place was nice enough, a red brick manor in Sussex, with a well-kept garden and a greenhouse containing the owner's collection of rare orchids. As far as his muggle neighbors were concerned, John Stockton Esq. was a gentleman who kept to himself and a select circle of friends he had made during his travels. Overall, he was a charming man, if a bit pale, with an old-fashioned sense of honor.

Wizards knew better. Stockton manor was a terrifying place, one that even Voldemort would have thought twice before attacking. He was one of the few wizards with a permanent invitation here, in the domain of England's main vampire clan. John Stockton, who often took the nickname of Sanguini in his relationships with the wizards was indeed a charming man… for a centuries-old vampire. Eldred had also seen him rip off the head of a werewolf with a swipe of his hand and shatter a stone wall with a punch. He had absolutely no illusions about the capacity of any wizard to survive more than two seconds in a hand-to-hand fight against a vampire. Going all out with spells to keep the monster at bay was the only sensible strategy.

"You know, I still don't understand how you can use all these muggle contraptions," he said as he watched his friend close a cellular phone.

"Because I can wish happy birthday to my grandson in real time instead of having to wait for an owl to deliver my letter in New York, maybe?" replied Stockton with a fangy smile, an amused light playing in his crimson, slit eyes.

Eldred shook his head. Contrarily to what many muggle legends said, vampires were a living species that reproduced naturally. They lived longer than humans, but they were mortal. The siring process described in vampire novels was possible but it rarely worked. Most of the time, the poor human became a mad, blood-frenzied monster that the vampires called a ghoul. Stockton had also told him once that werewolves were the same way. The problem was that while the vampires had kept control of the ghoul problem, hunting them down ruthlessly, the true werewolves hadn't and whole packs of infected ones had been created.

"I'm just afraid that one day…"

"Please, Eldred," cut in Stockton. "My 'muggle artifacts' are not bewitched and you know how the Ministry is. They are quite satisfied with us dark creatures keeping our affairs in the muggle world. As long as we do not threaten the Statute of Secrecy, they have no reason to change that policy and if they did… well, I hope that the wizards remember the true meaning of war because we certainly do."

Eldred nodded. In his years as a friend to the Stockton clan, he had understood something that Voldemort himself had never gotten. The British vampires may be dark creatures but they were guided by a strong sense of honor and nobility. To them, the Death Eaters were trash and so was the Ministry. Eldred had learnt that much of their philosophy came from a woman they revered like a saint: Akasha Bloodriver, in fact a terrifying vampire who was rumored to live in Japan. From what little he knew, Stockton had been saved by that woman when he was a child, when his family was slaughtered during a magical war in the Far East, two hundred years ago. She had impressed on the then young vampire her ideal of pacific co-existence between humans and magical creatures.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by a ring coming from another machine on Stockton's desk. The vampire quickly typed something, frowning as another machine came life, soon delivering a sheet of paper Eldred retrieved and handed to his friend. While the technology behind a computer and a laser printer eluded him, despite the enthusiastic explanations of Stockton's grandson during his last visit, the wizard understood the possibilities… and found them seriously frightening regarding the Statute of Secrecy.

"You still have use for the printed word, then," he said with a smile.

"In this case, yes. This fax has the handwriting of a certain person and will be helpful in convincing her parents."

"Muggles?" he asked.

"Yes, but do not worry, they are aware of the magical world. Their daughter is in Hogwarts… though she has gotten herself involved in a serious mess."

"Brian, can you bring the Bentley to the front with a satellite comm suite in the trunk?" asked Stockton while pushing a button on his desk.

"Of course, Sir," replied a voice on the intercom. "Will you be away for long?"

"Probably two days. I will be reachable on the usual channels," replied the vampire, closing the communication.

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Eldred.

"No," replied Stockton while opening a safe. "I need you to do me a favor and check your wizarding sources about unusual issues at Hogwarts. You know how Dumbledore is: always trying to keep things in-house," he continued, handing the wizard a pouch full of Galleons.

"Very well. What's the girl's name?"

"Hermione Granger."


	2. Of the Necessity of Encryption

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _The more it goes, the more I see the Sanguini of this story being played by Mark Gatiss (Mycroft Holmes in Sherlock)._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

"Well, this is different…" said Hermione as she looked at the glass-ceilinged street.

After writing that letter for her parents, Miss Nekonome had taken her shopping for clothes. After what she had seen in her grandfather's flat – or rather penthouse as it occupied the whole top floor of the academy's administrative building – she should have known to expect something different from Diagon Alley.

Just like in the flat, the shops here had no problem with modernity. There were several of them selling computers, mobile phones and other electronic devices in fact. She had also seen one full supermarket next to the parking… which was another point toward modernity. The Academy campus counted many different buildings between the high school, middle school, elementary school, the dorms, an aula magna and various sports accommodations including an Olympic-size swimming pool and a soccer field.

 _And amusingly enough, no Quidditch pitch… well, it goes with the school's goal: fit into the muggle world._

The shopping district called Mononoke Bangaichi was set roughly two kilometers away from the main campus, with an asphalt road linking the two. Miss Nekonome had explained her that the name could translate as 'Ghost neighborhood', the last term being a really rough approximation, as Bangaichi was a term linked to the peculiar way Japanese people numbered houses and literally meant 'land without number'. The teacher had told her that many students simply called the place the Arcade because of the arched glass ceilings that covered the alleys inside the district.

They had gone there using Miss Nekonome's car, a perfectly normal compact car with genuine license plates, just like the other vehicles in the parking. As they arrived, she had seen a mother with a little boy put away her groceries, before strapping the boy in the kid chair in the back. It was so… muggle and only the nature of some of the groceries had let anything slip. Given how this place was connected to the rest of the world, it was actually to be expected. The Academy's pocket universe had a series of exits that appeared as road tunnels. From what Hermione had understood of Miss Nekonome's explanation, they functioned like the Floo Network, depositing cars in other tunnels all over Japan depending on what the driver said when entering them.

"How different?" asked Miss Nekonome.

"Well… it's rather funny but it is at the same time less and more mundane than Diagon Alley, I mean the wizard shopping district in London."

"An interesting thought that will need some explanation, though."

"Well… Diagon Alley is pretty much medieval and magic is everywhere. I remember when my parents went there with me to fetch my supplies: people were looking at them strangely because they weren't wearing robes. Here… everything looks modern, including people's clothing. But on the other hand, there are some of the people who aren't human and it doesn't bother anyone."

The crowd inside the Arcade was indeed a mixed one. She could see some students in uniform, humans of all ages and a few obviously not human, like that one who looked like a ten-foot-tall heap of soot with a single eye and short arms. All those who looked more or less human, including herself, had one thing in common, though: clothes that would have fit without problem in modern Japan. For example, Miss Nekonome was wearing a denim skirt and jacket ensemble over an orange top that hugged her curves.

On the other hand, she was pretty sure that some of the 'humans' were in fact disguised ayashi. Some like Miss Nekonome sometimes slipped. Either the way they moved looked plain unnatural or they forgot to keep their disguise up and something showed. She had spotted the teacher's cat tail four times already.

"Actually, there is no human here. The school has a policy that all students must strive to maintain a human shape at all times and not tell the others their species. It's both a matter of preparing to live in the human world and… as unfortunate as it is, it helps prevent old racial hatreds. I really hope that one day, it will not be necessary anymore."

"No human… you mean, not even… I see: this is what grandfather meant when he said that you counted wizards among the ayashi. They are not considered as human at all here."

"Yes, but… there are some ayashi that discriminate against the wizards," replied the cat woman with a sigh. "Those consider wizards to be half-humans and not true ayashi… do you remember what the headmaster told you about the Statute of Secrecy being exported from Europe?"

"It was different before it was implemented in Japan?"

"Yes. Back then, witches were very important as intermediaries between the humans and the supernatural. They often joined the Shinto priesthood, officiating as shamans. But with the Statute…"

"They could not fill their role anymore. In Europe it wasn't a problem because they were the majority and could dictate their conditions, which created the Wizarding Society. But here…"

"Exactly."

As she followed the catgirl through the Arcade, Hermione found herself silently cursing her History of Magic teacher, Dumbledore and the Ministry. The ghost teacher for being a disgrace to his profession, Dumbledore for not sacking him, and the Ministry because she was more and more convinced that any magical history book published in Britain would be biased in favor of the wizards.

 _Even if the Japanese ayashi have a bias too, there are too many parallels with muggle colonization… I need to ask grandfather for books from authors with different point of views… and learn a lot of languages to make sure I can read them in their original version._

"Do you have an idea about the kind of clothes you want?" asked the teacher.

"I… I don't really know," she said, hesitating and remembering how badly her discussions with the girly girls in her Hogwarts dorm usually ended. "I never really… I mean, clothes are clothes."

"Ah! Practical then… that's a shame though. If you agree, I will present you one of my former students. She's very adept with fashion and she can help you with that."

She nodded, noticing that the teacher's smile definitely had a Cheshire's cat quality. They soon found themselves in front of a shop with a sign representing a kind old woman sitting behind a loom. Inside the racks were full of clothing for women and girls of all ages. Miss Nekonome pushed the door and a black-haired, lithe woman rose from behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, Watanabe-san. I'm bringing you a new customer but I'm afraid she does not yet speak Japanese."

"Good afternoon to you too, Nekonome-sensei. That's no probl… oh my! Aren't you a cutie!" replied the woman while detailing her. "So tell me, how may I call you?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, Ms. Watanabe."

"Well, Granger-san, let's see what we can do for you… let's start with one!" replied the shopkeeper after taking a cute green sundress out of a rack.

Hermione started to try clothes and quickly realized a few things. One was that this definitely wasn't the kind of shop where she would find jeans or an off-the-shelf sweater. In fact, the fabric the most used here was silk. The other was that while her disguise was very good, the way the tailor sometimes moved had something definitely creepy. She decided to ignore it, as Ms. Watanabe's advice was good and what she selected for her looked very nice on her…

"Ah… tiger stripes, always a classic for oni-types," said Watanabe an hour later as Hermione came out of the changing room with a black and yellow, tiger-patterned, knee-length cheongsam.

She had been afraid that this kind of pattern would look slutty except that… she tried her evil overlord smile when standing in front of the mirror and was quite satisfied by the result. She would probably wear it with those black pants she had selected. She looked at the clock behind the shop's counter. Miss Nekonome had left to get her some basic necessities like toiletries and would be back in ten minutes. The last thing she would need would be one or two pairs of shoes.

"I just hope I will not outgrow them too fast."

"I can easily resize them and you will see that Acromantula silk is very durable."

"Acromantula… isn't that dangerous to even approach them?" she asked, remembering the entry about those giant spiders in Newt Scamander's book about magical creatures.

"Well, for humans, certainly. But as you can guess, it can be different for us ayashi. My aunt in Borneo says that Acromantulas are our Neanderthals and that we must be charitable with them. So she set up an agreement with a colony: silk against cattle. It wasn't easy to make them understand that the hunter-gatherer lifestyle would only end with the humans killing them, but now everybody makes profit out of it."

Hermione looked at the tailor, understanding now the kind of ayashi she was dealing with: a spider-woman, probably the kind where things ended very badly for humans falling into her webs in the old legends.

 _Which in turn raises a bunch of questions about how literal man-eaters manage to adapt to a… more pacifistic lifestyle._

"I suppose finding the right food can be a problem for some ayashi," she said, waiting for the tailor's reaction.

"Definitely but I'm a Yokai Academy graduate and I put my foot down at eating sentient creatures, no matter what my ancestors may think. Thankfully, more of us agree with that every year… you will soon start at the Academy?"

"I'm still not sure."

"Well, if you do, my niece Keito is currently in middle school. Maybe you'll be friends."

* * *

Desdemona Granger had been busy packing up when the doorbell rang. Each year, the Granger family did a little trip to the Alps to get some skiing time and usually spent the New Year with friends in Chamonix. It would be without Hermione this time, though, as their little girl had decided to spend the Christmas break in Hogwarts.

She didn't like it. She understood that Hermione felt more comfortable with her wizard friends and now had interests she could not speak freely about. But she also understood the likely long-term consequence of that behavior, something that had been nagging her since she had seen Hogwarts' curriculum and noticed its lack of most 'mundane' classes. One day, their little girl would slip into 'that world' for good and not come back.

 _Who could it be? Ross just left to fetch the car at the garage…_

She opened the door, revealing a pale, black-haired man in an impeccable dark grey suit that just screamed 'Savile Row' to her. The perfectly maintained Bentley, a Continental from the fifties if she wasn't mistaken, currently parked in her alley just completed the picture.

"Good morning, Sir. What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, milady. John Stockton, at your service," said the man with a little bow and a very posh accent. "Earlier this morning, an old friend of mine sent me this fax and I felt it necessary to deliver it in person."

She took the sheet of paper he was handing her and unfolded it. Thankfully, her resistance to strangeness had grown since she discovered that magic was real. She felt her heart clench when she noticed it was Hermione's handwriting.

 _Mum and Dad,_

 _Sorry for the bad handwriting. It's almost as if I lost the habit of writing with a trusty pen, instead of one of those antiquated things I use at school. I know I should write more often but I'm always afraid that you will think it's the bearer of bad news, or maybe strange ones. You must remember that time when we asked this wizard about colors and fashion. Some of them should really check their eyes, to say the truth._

 _Speaking of strange news, something happened in Hogwarts. I had some kind of allergic reaction to a potion. Don't worry, I'm well and safe but there are some things that you need to see by yourself and others that I don't dare to speak about on unsecure channels… I feel like if I am into one of Dad's comic books and rather the X-Men than Dr. Strange. Anyway, the person who brought this letter will have equipment to set up communications._

 _See you soon._

 _Love,_

 _Hermione_

Desdemona lifted her head and looked at the man. The letter had several codes her husband had arranged with Hermione. 'Lost the habit' meant that she wasn't writing under duress and 'bad handwriting' to look for words with a peculiar handwriting defect in the paragraph it appeared. Those gave: _Trusty letter bearer ask wizard colors check truth._

"Mr. Stockton, how many colors are there for wizards?" she asked, knowing which piece of literature her daughter had been referencing.

"Eight, of course," replied the vampire with a little smile. "So the letter was coded."

"How would Hermione know that you like reading Pratchett?"

"I was the one to send those books to that old friend of mine she is currently with."

"Please, do come in," she replied having decided that this was going to be a long conversation as well as one better held without any unwanted ears.

"Thank you, milady," he replied as he followed her inside. "Maybe it will make you feel better to know that while I am aware of magic, I am not a wizard."

"I... suspected as much. No offense, but the wizards I met would never have your sense of fashion."

"None taken, as I fully agree myself," replied Stockton with a smile. "The code was wise. Many wizards would have checked for charms to conceal a text."

She could not help but wonder at the tinge of contempt she had discerned in his voice.

"Do you have a child in Hogwarts too?"

"Even if I had wanted them to attend, I doubt Dumbledore would have let them. I'm a vampire," replied Stockton as his eyes shifted from hazel to scarlet and his pupils became slits.

Desdemona felt a little wary at that revelation though not as much as she could have been. She had seen the Goblins in Gringotts and read some of Hermione's books. She already knew about the existence of vampires and that the legends were wrong on many points. The problem was how reliable anything wizard-written actually was. She had a look at the entrance's mirror and saw her guest's reflection.

"Before I make a faux pas, may I ask about Gilderoy Lockhart?"

She studied the vampire's reaction. This man had written a lot of books on a variety of subjects, including vampires. She had not been very impressed by him but she lacked the means to really judge the value of his books… until now. This elegant man who could probably fit in a party in Buckingham Palace had little in common with the creeps Lockhart had described in _Voyages with Vampires._

"Let's just say that if the wizarding laws were not so skewed against us 'dark creatures', my glove would already be in that buffoon's face. I adjure you not to believe a word he wrote."

"I suspected as much. Now, I suppose that you arriving just after my husband left is not a coincidence?"

"Only in part. I saw him preparing his bike to leave and decided to wait a little bit. The reason is that this is about your father."

She looked at Stockton, trying to remember what little she knew about her father. According to what her mother had been willing to say, her father was blond and well over six feet tall. He should also be at least sixty years old, unless… She went to fill the electric kettle and started to boil some water, letting the routine gestures wash away some of her worries.

"Since Professor McGonagall came to tell us what was 'wrong' with Hermione, I have wondered about my father. Could magic have just skipped a generation? Should I try to find him? More practically, is my father the friend who faxed you Hermione's message?"

"Yes. Your daughter is with him now. I can assure you that she is safe and I have video conference equipment in my car to allow you to speak with her. If you have questions, I will also do my best to answer them, of course."

"Video conference… you were sent a fax and this is computer paper. You are… surprisingly high-tech, Mr. Stockton."

"I'll take that as a compliment. If you allow me, I will set up my equipment."

"Please do."

She finished preparing tea while he fetched two big sports bags and a four-foot-long tube from his car. She could not help but notice how effortlessly he carried the heavy load, how gracefully he moved. Any doubt she might have had about his nature disappeared. How he carried himself reminded her of a tiger on the prowl. She could only wonder how fast and strong he really was and what kind of limitations he actually had. She continued to watch as he removed his jacket and opened the bags, first taking out a tripod and setting it on the terrace, away from prying eyes. She understood why when he unfolded a black wiring satellite dish and set it on the tripod, checking angle and orientation against a compass, the current time and a small notebook.

"May I help with something?" she asked.

"The tube is a folding projection screen. Can you set it up?"

She nodded and put the item in place just in front of the TV. Stockton had already set up a portable computer and a beamer. The last item was a camera and tripod set that she set next to the screen, looking at the couch. She helped him to connect everything, noting that the computer seemed to be a custom design.

"You don't fear… I mean, if we talk about magic on a commercial channel, isn't that against wizard law?"

"Some in the Wizengamot – the wizard parliament – would probably see it that way but most wizarding laws have a blind spot regarding modern technology. Have you been in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes… it was not a pleasant experience."

"What did you feel?"

"I remember people looking at me like if I was some kind of animal. Disgusting beast for some, exotic pet for others," she replied, remembering her respective encounters with Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley. "It made me think about my country's history and wonder if this is how people from the colonies felt when coming to England during the Victorian Era."

"An apt comparison. Wizards are often convinced of their own superiority while living in a small, insular culture. They do not realize that the world is leaving them behind."

"How is it for… people like you?"

"It depends what you mean by that. Here in Europe, we 'dark creatures' usually stick a lot closer to the humans than wizards do. To give you an example, the Goblins are a people of crafters and they have a lot of interest in human technology, not that they will let any of it where the wizards can see it. As for us vampires… I won't lie to you. There are still some of us who think humans are cattle. Thankfully, we Progressives are more numerous these days. Personally, I enjoy the fact that things like blood banks allow me to live without harming anyone."

"Hello honey," said a voice from the house's entrance. "Do you know wh… Good morning Mr.…" continued Ross Granger as he entered the living room and saw Stockton and his wife around the conference equipment.

"John Stockton, Mr. Granger. Though from a letter of your daughter's I have seen and what my American grandson repeatedly teases me about, I think you will understand if I say you can call me Hannibal King."

Of course he knew that name. Hannibal King was one of the few 'nice' vampires in the Marvel universe. The day has suddenly turned a lot more interesting…

* * *

Hermione was feeling antsy as she sat on the living room's couch. She could not help but dread discovering her parents' reaction about her recent changes. She knew that her Mum had not been happy about something magic-related last summer even though she didn't know what. Her new 'features' would just pour oil on that fire. To help lessen that a little bit, she had opted for a rather conservative pale pink floral blouse and white pants.

She heard a whine and her grandfather's pet came to nuzzle her gently… well as gently as the creature could, given its nature. Hermione could not help but think that Hagrid would have positively loved that 'dog'. Togezo – a name that translated as Spiky – was in fact a boar-sized porcupine with bull horns and jaws that a wolf would have envied. How in hell – pun intended – that animal managed to be tame and rather cuddly she had no idea. She just scratched the top of its head, thanking the fact the animal's size actually made its spikes less effective than his 'normal' counterpart.

Her grandfather typed something on the computer's keyboard and joined her on the couch while Togezo laid in front of them on his usual bit of carpet, if the scratches were any indication. In the last hours, she had learnt a few things about him, like the fact that he was a lot older than he looked, as in several centuries old. He had a lot of money, having played those long games people with several human lifespans at their disposal could afford. Also, while Dumbledore had probably more influence in the wizarding world, Tenmei Mikogami had access to substantial resources and contacts with Japan's human government too, including military ones. For example, the communication with her parents would be encrypted, thanks to technology provided by the Public Security Intelligence Agency.

"Ojiisan… what does the MI-5 know about magic?"

"Probably more than the wizards would like if they ever bothered to enquire about it. Sometimes, intelligence services in the West find allies on the fringes of wizarding society, like disillusioned muggleborns. What also happens more and more is that the old masking spells are losing their effectiveness because of technological advances. The problem with those is that the wizards often cannot even conceive what the humans can now do and they cannot shield places effectively against what they don't understand."

"Like satellites. I always wondered how Unplottability would work with the systematic satellite mapping and picture taking."

"Badly and it's getting worse. Spells acting to make the observer lose interest in what he is seeing are limited in range and they don't work on machines. Likewise, spells to remove a place from a map fail against digital information. Even worse, the people looking at those pictures are often intelligence analysts trained to look for inconsistencies when searching for camouflaged installations. Even if they cannot find the place itself, its effects on its unprotected environment tip them off. To give you a direct example, the Russians discovered where Hogwarts is during the Cold War, thinking it was some kind of secret military base disguised as castle ruins. As you can guess, it didn't take long to have it classified as a strategic objective in case of nuclear strike."

Hermione looked at the ground, feeling sick. Of course it made sense, terrible sense. The Russians didn't know it was a school. They only knew that something was wrong there and in paranoid, Cold War logic, it meant something military and important. Aiming ballistic missiles on the place was just the next step in that logic. The bitter irony of it was that because of the Statute of Secrecy, the Russians had been unable to verify their satellite observations on the ground, which would have let them reclassify Hogwarts as civilian.

"And the Russian Ministry of magic?"

"There isn't one, hasn't been since the fall of the Romanovs. The Soviet regime would not have tolerated something it could not control, particularly under Stalin. In fact, most of the wizards west of the Urals emigrated during the Bolshevik Revolution, generally going to central European magical nations like Transylvania. A coven of hags founded by Baba Yaga organized the communities in Siberia to maintain at least some order and prevent the humans from noticing things. They are now part of what I will call 'the Asian block' which magical Japan is also a part of. It's not a full alliance, it just means that our representatives at the ICW usually agree to vote the same way… it looks like they're ready on the other side."

"Yeah… and, thank you for distracting me from my worry by answering my questions."

"You're welcome," replied Mikogami with his usual smirk.

The projector above her came to life and the screen started to display an image she knew well. Her parents were in a situation similar to her own, sitting on the couch of their living room. She just hoped that, after this conversation, it would still be her living room too. She saw her Mum gasp, covering her mouth as she took in the horns and the third eye while her Dad squeezed her Mum's hand.

"Hermione… oh my… what happened?" asked Ross Granger. "Is that what you meant when you told about the X-Men?"

"I'm fine Dad and… sort of. It's not a mutation but there was an accident that activated something I inherited. Mum, Dad, this is Tenmei Mikogami, headmaster of the Yokai Academy, a magical school in Japan. He's Mum's Dad and he founded his school on the idea of pacific coexistence between magical creatures and humans."

"Thank you Hermione, though I am unsure I deserve that last title," said Mikogami. "After all, I wasn't here to help your mother raise you, Mrs. Granger."

"Desdemona or Des, please. The situation is awkward enough and… no offense to you Mr. Stockton, but I had my fill of posh courtesy for today," she replied looking at something off-camera.

"None taken at all and please call me John," replied an off-screen voice with an accent that Hermione indeed immediately classified as posh.

"So," continued Desdemona. "Given your previous reaction, I am willing to give you a chance. My mother was very clear about the fact you stopped dating her before she started showing and never saw you again. Did she know about… your nature?"

"I think she suspected that some things were not normal but rather thought I was doing something illegal. Due to the matter I was in England to handle, I often disappeared in the wizarding areas. Also… there was the fact we were different species so when she told me it was over, I didn't insist. Before you ask, precautions were taken…"

"But they aren't one hundred percent foolproof," cut in Desdemona. "You said different species and the horns make that rather evident but this raises another question. Why did none of the medical exams I went through reveal anything?"

"I had to attend a number of diplomatic functions and it was important for me to stay in human form at all times, despite having to cross wards repeatedly. I used a powerful transformation effect for that, one that is permanent until broken. Its effect carried to you and Hermione until the accident she told you about broke it."

"Is Hermione's evolution permanent?" asked Ross.

"Yes and I advise against trying to re-seal it. While she is mostly healthy, this was a big shock for her organism. You do not have to be afraid about her being unable to fit with human society though. I can teach her how to take a temporary human appearance," he said while his horns seemed to fold inside his head, his hair shifted from white to blond and his eyes from golden to blue.

"Dad, I know it's a lot to take in and I freaked out a lot the first time I saw myself in the mirror, but it's really not that bad. I'm still me… even if I like my meat a bit rarer now."

"I understand my little bookwyrm," he replied, using a nickname he had come up with after saying she was too fierce to be a bookworm. "Is he really like Xavier?"

"Well, I didn't see much and… many ayashi have a problem with having different cultures and appetites. Changing is not easy but the people I met are trying."

"Mr.… father, are you some kind of Japanese ogre?" asked Desdemona.

"Onis are cousins," replied Mikogami. "There is a fair bit of history behind that relationship, too much to be told in this call. In the British Isles, our name would be Fomorians."

"A name with a fair bit of history too," said Ross, "but I know enough about Celtic and Norse myths to know that many sources have been tainted by the Christians who transcribed them."

"Indeed. I suggest we all meet in person," said Mikogami. "Hermione told me you had vacation time planned and I have to take Hermione see my blood brother. So my proposal is to meet at his clan's house in Hong Kong in two days."

"Hong Kong?" asked Desdemona. "This is going…"

"It's possible," cut in Ross. "It's a twelve hours' flight if I remember correctly and there should be one we can take today or tomorrow. Also, even with the retrocession, UK nationals don't need a visa for tourism."

"Correct, you have a Cathay Pacific flight at Heathrow at 4 PM," added Mikogami. "John, I transferred money for that to the 'Diogenes' account and had Eisheth book two business class seats."

"We can…" started Desdemona.

"Please, Des-chan," cut in Mikogami. "You're family and I have more than enough money for all of us. If this is a matter of principle, please consider it as a gift: New Year in Hong Kong for the whole family."

"Mum, Dad," said Hermione as she fidgeted on the couch.

"We will discuss about all that in two days, little bookwyrm," replied her father. "Just know that your Mum and I love you. Take care and we'll see you in two days. Mr. Mikogami, I trust you to take care of her too."

"Take care, Hermione," said Desdemona, "and see you soon."

"You can count on it," replied the Kishin.

* * *

Desdemona could not help but feel self-conscious as she looked at the person walking toward them in the airport's hall. At first glance, The voluptuous blond woman in the pricey skirt suit looked like the kind of secretary powerful people kept for very specific reasons. The woman's body had all the right curves in the right places, perfect hair and a rather impressive bosom.

"Mrs. and Mr. Granger, John. Eisheth Blackrose from Finch and Blackrose," said the woman with a megawatt smile, handing them a business card. "Our firm handles all sorts of legal matters."

"Any problem, Ms. Blackrose?" asked Ross.

"While I am mostly here to deliver your travel documents, I have unfortunately to say 'not yet', Mr. Granger. There are some points of 'their' laws that they often too conveniently forget to tell parents with a 'special child' about. I have prepared some documentation that you can read on the plane," she replied, taking a manila folder out of her briefcase.

"Are you part of John's family?" asked Desdemona.

"No, though our respective families delve in the same circles."

Desdemona could not help but smile, knowing that in the same situation, most of the wizards she had met would probably already have done or said something 'out of place'. Not this woman. She now realized that her 'slutty' image was a calculated use of her physical assets that could lure people into underestimating her. If she had interpreted the solicitor's last sentence correctly, she wasn't a vampire but wasn't human either.

 _Probably some kind of seducer creature… Eisheth, that sounds like Hebrew._

"Your tickets are here," continued the solicitor, as she took an envelope out of her briefcase. "I included a sheet with some emergency numbers that may be useful during your travel. I was also assured that a representative of the Huang family will be at the airport to greet you. The sheet indicates how to recognize him."

* * *

John Stockton and Eisheth Blackrose watched the Grangers as they went through the customs.

"Any problem?" asked the solicitor in Hebrew.

"To quote you: not yet. The old meddler probably thinks that the matter is handled with the girl out of UK… plus there are those rumors about the snake face not being dead," he replied in the same language.

He was taking care to only use words he could easily translate, so that any listener could not recognize names. He knew enough about the wizarding community to know that there were only a handful of wizards able to speak Hebrew in the country. 'Old meddler' was of course for Dumbledore while 'snake face' applied to Voldemort.

"The girl is one of the Boy's friends, right?" she asked back, using their common reference about Harry Potter.

"Yes and that's one more reason the old meddler will have to keep her away. Can you have a look at the Boy's situation, check for irregularities in both worlds?"

"Of course but that will take some time as we don't want any of them to notice it… you'll owe me a dinner date for that. Do you think they will come back?"

"Deal for the dinner and I think so. Something is happening at her school, something the Boy is probably involved in. She will want to help."

"I'll prepare a dossier in case I have to see the school's board of governors. Thankfully the Ministry is not discriminating against her species…"

"Yet," cut in Stockton.

"All too true."

* * *

"Ross, did you read the section on guardians?" asked Desdemona a few hours later, as their plane was somewhere over Arabia.

He nodded somberly, abandoning his own reading. The documentation prepared by Ms. Blackrose had filled in a lot of gaps they could not get straight answers about from wizarding sources. True, most wizards probably didn't bother with legal intricacies and let the Wizengamot decide about that kind of things. Except that the Wizengamot was only half a Parliament as far as he was concerned, seemingly having a House of Lords but no House of Commons.

The peculiar bit that was irking them was something about magical guardians. By default, Hogwarts' headmaster acted _in loco parentis,_ which was not something surprising for an English boarding school. The problem was that this went a bit further for muggleborn children. The solicitor's notes make it very clear that the law did not guarantee the rights of muggle parents. By custom, the child was allowed to continue to live with his muggle relatives but the Ministry could decide to place him or her with proper magical guardians at any time and without any recourse, to ensure a proper education.

The law had probably made some kind of sense when it was enacted in the Middle Ages, when wizard children could be thought to be changelings or possessed and needed to be saved from their relatives. The problem was that like many things in the Wizarding World, it had not evolved. This article of the law had not been called upon for a very long time, ironically thanks to the racist ideology of the Blood Purists who saw no reason to 'better' the education of muggleborns, but it was never properly repealed.

"They could take her from us," she continued. "Decide she's some kind of trophy they want to own… that horrible man could... you saw how his son was looking at her."

He put his hand on hers and squeezed it lightly. None of them remembered fondly their encounter with Lucius Malfoy and his son Draco.

"I know. We'll find something."

"I… what if I asked my father to remove that thing for me too?"

He closed his eyes. That thing. The seal that made her human. Those laws about muggleborns would not apply anymore then.

"Let's see if we have other options first but… if that happened, I promise it won't change anything," he said squeezing her hand a little tighter.

She had a faint, tired smile and leaned back in her seat, having probably decided to sleep for a while. He put the legal documents away. He should do the same. The next days would probably be very tiring for all of them.


	3. Meet the Huangs

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite._

 _In this story, I am basing some of the Earth's history on the Irish myths, with a dose of what I would call the 'Robert E. Howard' treatment. This will have consequences on the development of some things both in HP and R+V side. I also admit that much of the wizarding history had been subject to extensive revisionism following the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

Hermione heard the alarm clock ring and mumbled as her hand moved, trying to find the correct button on the offending object without looking at it. An instant later, the noise stopped and she rose sluggishly from under the covers.

She hadn't slept well. While the call with her parents had gone reasonably well, it had led to another discussion with her grandfather about the circumstances that pushed her to drink Polyjuice potion in the first place. While he had been understanding about why she had wanted to break quite a few of Hogwart's rules, he had also pretty much ordered her to come clean with her parents and tell them all the little things she had omitted so far about the magical world.

She got up, not wanting to think about that now. She looked around, at the same room she had woken up in the day before. She had learnt that this was in fact her grandfather's room, that he had left her while he slept on his couch. When she had felt embarrassed about it, he had shrugged it off, saying that he had slept on a lot harder when he was adventuring with his two best friends some years ago.

He had admitted, though, that as her presence here was bound to become a more permanent occurrence, they had to come up with a better solution, which had led him to give her a tour of the private floor and to a discovery: he only used a little more than half of it. Most of the floor's southern part was currently made up of empty rooms.

The reason for that was relatively simple: this floor was one of the few places where her grandfather let his disguise go and that meant that he didn't have any guest room there. He had toyed with the idea, which explained why he had claimed more space than he actually used, but never implemented it. The guest quarters had been finally placed in the dorms area, in the same building as the flats for the teachers who chose to live on the campus.

She took a quick shower and dressed up, deciding to stay casual for now. From what she had been told, they would only leave for Hong Kong tomorrow, using a Portkey. As she didn't enter Japan legally and given her current inability to maintain a human appearance, they would have to stick to magical transportation for now. As for why only tomorrow… her grandfather was of course able to create a Portkey in a matter of minutes and she was sure he had a collection of emergency ones somewhere. No, the reason was to let her parents have some hours to get rid of the jet lag and discuss some things calmly with the Huang family.

She smiled at the thought of meeting the Huangs. From what Mikogami had told her, they were Yakshas, also known as Thuata dé Danann in Britain. The family founder was the Dark Lord Touhou Fuhai, considered to be one of the greatest spellcasters in the world and renowned for many discoveries in the fields of warding and summoning. Fuhai did not however lead the family directly, having retired in favor of his great-grandson Huang Feihong, who ruled with the help of his wife Tiantian. The couple had two children, a twenty-seven-year-old daughter called Lingling and a boy called Fangfang. This one in particular interested her as he was just one year younger than her. As an only child, one of the things she had really missed was a family member of her age she could talk with about magic. She could maybe even end up having some kind of surrogate big sister with Lingling.

"Good morning ojiisan," she said as she entered the living room and saw him in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mina-chan. One or two eggs with your bacon?"

Normally, she would have said zero as she kept her breakfasts relatively light… but that had been before. Her appetites were different now and… she giggled.

"Two, and sorry, that wasn't about you. I was just thinking about one of my dorm mates, she's an Indian girl called Parvati and you said we were called Rakshasas in India."

"It's true that their legends were not kind to us… by the way, you don't mind me calling you that anymore?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, ojiisan. I had difficulties to sleep so I read part of the books Miss Nekonome gave me to get me started on Japanese. I understand the difficulties some people will have with pronouncing my first name and I know what the honorific you used mean. So Mina-chan… maybe even Mikogami-san as I suppose it's my clan name, is fine."

"While I like the ring of Mikogami Mina," he replied with a warm smile, "we will have to discuss that matter with your parents. As you can guess, using that name publicly would have political consequences. For now, are you hungry?"

She nodded enthusiastically as she could almost hear her stomach rumble. She sat at the bar and attacked her breakfast. As they traded some anecdotes about their respective schools, she could not help but notice that he seemed starved for honest 'human' interactions. She knew he had a darker side of course. After all, she could feel that same darkness lurking inside her own soul now.

"You have a rule about executing humans found on school ground?" she asked wide-eyed after their discussion had gone for a while.

"On paper, yes. Can you tell me why I felt the need to implement this?"

She started to run possible reasons. It went against the goal of pacific co-existence he had told her about except…

"Without it, how many parents would have refused to send their kids here?" she asked, following a hunch.

He smiled to her, again falling into that sadistic, evil overlord grin that seemed to be so common for her new species.

"Mina-chan, you probably already know that politics can force us to do distasteful things for perfectly honorable reasons. As you mentioned, I have to deal with several factions among the ayashi who do not like humans and the rule exists to placate them. This is another reason why I set the rules about keeping a human shape and not disclosing their species. A lost human would be protected as long as he manages to keep that secret."

"You have your Blood Purists too?"

"In a way, though I doubt that British Blood Purists would consider eating humans a traditional right."

Hermione looked at her dish, seemed to consider the food in it for an instant and attacked it again, scowling.

"Let me guess: you are annoyed that what I just said is not as horrifying as you think it should be," he said while taking a sip of tea.

"In part… but more because I just realized that some apparently random things you said in the last 24 hours were anything but."

"Oh! Really?"

"Ojiisan… last year, after that incident with the troll I told you about, I realized that the world was not safe and that the adults could mess up badly. I decided that if the choice was between growing up too fast and being defenseless, then I would grow up. I'm not saying I'm an adult but I started to check for hidden motives … to become more Slytherin in a way. You have been testing me."

"I have. Can you tell me what my real intent was with that last comment?"

"You are checking how fast I'm adapting to my new… situation. If I make some comparison with the things I read about werewolves in Britain, 'transformed ayashi' snapping is a real problem, right?"

"While there are only a handful of those in Japan these days, yes, it can be a real problem. Some are unable to cope with what their new instincts are telling them. Others wallow in self-loathing for… let's call that philosophical reasons. And that's only for the cases where the transformed one actually manages to stay a person."

"And what's the verdict in my case?"

"Satisfying so far but as you mentioned you didn't exactly have a sheltered life this last year and it helped. Now… I think we have some remodeling to do."

* * *

Hermione wiped her brow and looked with a smile at the cupboard she had just put in place. There were definitely some 'ups' to her transformation and it looked like physical strength was one of them. It wasn't anything near Superman level, thankfully. She had absolutely no wish to have to go through the whole 'world of cardboard' thing. She was just as strong as an adult human male… well maybe a weightlifting champion one.

 _But, being twelve, it still means that I will have superhuman strength when adult… I wonder how strong Ojiisan really is._

"Ojiisan, I finished in the bedroom," she said while entering the bathroom.

They had been working for a while now, transforming the southern, unused part of the floor into two bedroom, study and walk-in closet suites, with a common bathroom between the two. Their first hour of work had consisted of some spellwork to adapt the walls to their needs and then putting in place some basic furniture taken from one of the guest quarters. They would shop for something more personalized later.

"It's funny you know," she said. "I didn't imagine you…"

"Give it a few centuries, Mina-chan. You will see that you end up with a lot of random skills… including plumbing or basket weaving. Also, household charms have plenty of uses, some of them not nice. For example, the little spell I just used to fuse those two tubes could be used for bones, blocking a hip or an elbow in a very painful way."

"Not surprising. After all, a soldering iron can be used in not nice ways too… speaking of tools, isn't magic supposed to interfere with technology?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"It was something I read in Hogwarts: a history. It said that electricity…"

"Can you tell me how your nervous system is working?" he cut in.

She started to think, trying to remember what she knew about biology. She started to frown.

"It uses a mix of chemical reactions and electrical signals," she replied. "I didn't check, I thought that because it came from a reputable source…"

"It is possible to set up wards to disable technology, but this is a very complex matter. You do it wrong and _people_ stop functioning as well, because they rely on the same natural laws. The safest way to do that kind of thing is to create a semi-sentient ward that can identify items and destroy them with a punctual action rather than a continuous effect. Is there such a ward in Hogwarts? I don't know but it's possible and it can be checked. If that's the case, then the question you will need to ask yourself is why? On a funnier matter, let me show you how to cast a few wandless spells…"

* * *

Ross and Desdemona felt exhausted despite having managed to sleep a little on the plane. As they exited customs, they quickly noticed a Chinese man in a black suit holding a 'Mr. and Mrs. Granger' sign. That man wasn't that different from the many others that came to welcome one person or a group… except maybe for the fact that he was rather athletic, was wearing leather gloves… and, in Ross' opinion, would probably have been very welcome in a casting for a Chow Yun Fat gangster movie.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said as they approached him. "My name is Zhao Donghai and I work for the Huang family. We have arranged for transportation."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Zhao," said Ross. "I hope you got the Champagne ready?"

"Of course, Sir, a Bollinger 92, as per your request," replied the man in the black suit. "Please follow me."

The Grangers relaxed slightly as the man had just given them the correct reply to the security question Ms. Blackrose had provided them. Donghai said something in Cantonese and another man in a black suit got hold of the couple's luggage.

They soon reached the airport's entrance where a black limousine with tinted windows was waiting and near it a teenage girl in some kind of traditional pine green silk Chinese costume with an ample-sleeved heavy cloak. The thing that intrigued Desdemona the most were her eyes. The girl's facial features and long, raven hair were nothing out the ordinary in China but her green eyes bordered on the fluorescent, betraying her inhuman nature.

"Welcome to Hong Kong, cousins," said the girl, greeting them by bowing and putting her left fist in her right palm in front of her. "I am Huang Lingling. Please come inside, we'll be more comfortable to speak."

They followed the girl into the back of the limousine. Ross could not help but notice that the two… henchmen had been always surveying around them and he could not shake a hunch about how their jackets hung in the left armpit area. He had a look at his wife and realized she had noticed that too, probably primed like he had been by the spy stuff they had encountered since John Stockton passed their door. Out of curiosity, he quickly checked his phone while sitting in front of the limousine's back. He had no network inside the vehicle.

"Do not worry, the Faraday cage in the car is a simple way to help our conversation stay private. The limousine is also, of course, armored and warded," said Lingling.

She pushed the intercom button and gave some orders in Cantonese. They started to drive away immediately.

"I understand the how, Miss Huang, but I fail to understand the why," said Ross.

"Please call me Lingling, cousin. As you already started to learn, things are different here in Asia," said Lingling. "We yaojing – magical creatures – interact more freely with the humans than the European wizards but we also have to take some precautions they don't. Do not worry, cousins, we will teach you all you need… to get back on more immediate matters, Mother is sorry not to have been able to welcome you in person," she said. "Some work-related issue with the family's company. Nothing very problematic but she had to be there to fix that quickly."

"This is no problem at all. The idea was to meet everybody for the new year, right?" asked Desdemona.

"Indeed. Cousin Hermione and Mikogami-sama should arrive tomorrow using magical transportation. My little brother Fangfang is eager to meet her… I hope they will be friends, he has too few of them."

"Why? Sorry, I do not want to pry but..."

"Of course not, cousin, you are family and I hope we will be friends too… It's probably better that I tell you these things now, rather than having awkward moments later. Fangfang is the heir to the Huang family and we unfortunately had to teach him at a very young age that some people will be friendly to him only to get favors. Hermione being his cousin and de facto heir to the Mikogami family – unless you decide to assume your rank of course – she is safe for him."

"As we are talking about preventing awkwardness," said Ross. "Is your family… let's say traditional regarding a woman's place?"

"No. While we have taken many traits of the Chinese culture since my ancestors arrived here during the Three Kingdoms Era, some things will always be different for us yaojing because our physical and magical abilities are not the ones of humans. To answer the question you are going to ask, the reason why I cannot be the heir despite being the eldest child is not because I am female. That's because I'm already dead."

Desdemona looked at her, remembering that strange feeling she had the first time she looked at the girl's green eyes. She suddenly understood that Lingling didn't mean that she had some kind of condition that would kill her in the near future. She meant that literally.

"What happened?" she asked. "If that's not private, of course."

"Not for family. I fell ill years ago and didn't survive. Thankfully, Great-Grandfather managed to prevent my soul from going to my next incarnation and reanimated my body. I am a jiangshi, what you would call a zombie in the West… and do not worry, I find eating brains disgusting," replied the undead girl with a smile.

"I suppose speaking about gallows humor would be tasteless?" asked Ross.

"Nice one!" replied Lingling with a hearty laugh.

"Why did… I mean, couldn't your family just…" said Desdemona, struggling for words.

"Is that a fate worse than death? Some would think so but when Great-Grandfather offered me that choice, I saw a chance to continue being useful for my family, including for my then three-year-old little brother. At the time, my family was at war with the Miao family… and yes, there is non-negligible probability that my illness was not an accident."

"War?" asked Desdemona.

"The situation in magical China is a little complicated since the fall of the Ming dynasty. None of the clans recognized the Qing usurpers and the same goes for the communists… we never considered them to have the Mandate of Heaven. Anyway, currently, magical China is a collection of clans who only agree on a few key points. The Huang and the Miao are currently the most important ones. My parents tried to calm down things… my mother is from Miao clan and hoped that by marrying my father there would be peace but the best we ever managed was an uneasy truce. Thankfully things are calm these days."

"And Japan?" asked Desdemona.

"Similar situation, but more peaceful and with one big difference. The Emperor may be human but the Japanese yaojing recognize his authority. Your father is the head of one of the main factions centered around his Academy. Many of the small clans support him, if only by sending their children to study there."

"I think we're being followed," said Ross. "A gray sedan with one man inside."

"Good catch and I expected him to be here," replied Lingling with a little laugh while checking behind.

She pushed the intercom button to say a few words in Cantonese to the driver.

"Who is he?" asked Ross.

"Inspector Chau of the Hong Kong Police, arrived two months ago from Beijing and the local boys didn't yet manage to pound it into his thick Northerner skull that there are some things better left uninvestigated. Magical things… which makes me think that there is one reality you should be aware of. You will hear that we are a Triad, which is technically correct in that we are a secret society. The reason some of our activities are considered illegal is because they straddle both worlds and we cannot officially declare things that concern the magical world."

"Are you going to… erase that man's memory?" asked Desdemona, remembering what McGonagall had told them about the Obliviators when introducing them to magic.

"No," replied Lingling with a sigh, "but thank you for reminding me to tell you about this. Memory tampering is one of the big reasons why East Asian countries don't agree with the magical West. We consider that vile."

"Why is it vile? Because it's mind rape?" asked Ross.

"Some will say that, including Father and Great-Grandfather. But the real reason for most yaojing is religious. The problem is not that you touch someone's memories without consent but that this kind of magic interfere with his karma, messing him up not only in this life but also in the next ones."

"So what you do you instead?"

"People are usually reasonable. You make them understand that it's in their interest to shut up and they do it. Some even become human allies. For those who don't want to shut up… well, accidents happen. Don't worry, it doesn't happen often."

"I can't believe I'm saying this," replied Ross, "but I find your way better."

* * *

" _Reparo!_ " said Hermione while passing her hand over a broken tile.

She could feel the magic rush inside the item and the ceramic fragments begin to stick together… but the end result was some kind of demented – almost non-Euclidian – sculpture, not a flat tile. Still, the simple fact that the magic had done anything at all… she looked at her grandfather, who took the shower tube he had been about to screw the head on.

"Let's say this represent the amount of magic an average wizard puts in a spell," said Mikogami, making a small trickle of water run from the tube. "While for us Kishin, it's rather like that," he added, augmenting the water flow. "Now if the water jet has to get that high to start getting results, you can see why wizards have more problems with wandless magic than we do. While it's possible to gather magic from external sources, the most common solution to this problem is to use a focus, which basically do this."

He turned the water back to the 'wizard' flow level and put his finger on the tube's aperture. Hermione nodded. The quantity of water, or magic, was still the same but the speed increase caused by the tube narrowing allowed it to reach a greater height. This meaning was contained in the word focus itself.

"Are wands the best foci?" she asked, remembering a class where Flitwick had briefly told them about other magical traditions.

"Each kind of focus has advantages and disadvantages so before saying that one is the best, you have to consider what you want to do with them. For example, here in Japan, many spellcasters prefer to use ofuda, paper strips inscribed with runes dedicated to the spell."

"That seems less practical than a wand. I mean if you need a different strip for each spell…"

"Correct, wands are more adaptable than ofuda but the latter gain advantages from their nature of specialized tool. Casting the same spell, an ofuda will be simpler – due to a lack of specific hand movements – and require less energy than a wand, because the channeling is optimized for that particular spell. Ofuda can also easily serve as anchors for persistent spells, something that wands are incapable of. Staves, Grimoires, Runic Stones and so on, each will have its own pros and cons, just like using no focus at all does."

"Using multiple foci… do you know the expression 'jack of all trades, master of none'?"

"Yes and that is a definite problem. You have already seen by comparing wand casting and focus-less casting that each method needs to be mastered separately… a little like playing different musical instruments. Most spellcasters stick to one type of focus and refine their skill to offset at least partially for their style's disadvantages. In this particular point, the dependency of wands on the caster's skill becomes an advantage."

"But it's also a big disadvantage if an unskilled wizard come up with a badly matched wand," added Hermione, remembering Ron and Neville's issues back in Hogwarts.

"True. My advice is the following: take one primary method but also some basic proficiency in others that you can use as a backup. Dumbledore uses the same method, with wand as primary and focus-less as secondary, as he has enough magical output to afford it. In my case, I cast most spells without focus but rely on rune-inscribed crosses for warding and sealing."

* * *

Ross and Desdemona were looking at the house of the Huang family. Correction, they were looking at a full-blown manor with a mixed colonial and traditional Chinese architecture set north of Kowloon. After the limousine, they should probably have expected something like this but still…

"Des, you remember Diagon Alley, how the buildings looked?"

"Yes… Lingling, how old is the manor?"

"Roughly two centuries for the oldest parts, but it was expanded by each generation, adding housing for the retainers and so on. Keeping everything with the best possible Feng Shui despite all the alterations and additions has been a challenge."

 _Feng Shui, of course! We're dealing with Chinese magic users, not European witches,_ thought Desdemona, remembering what little she had read on the matter in one of the New Age magazines she mostly bought for their practice's waiting room. _No wonder everything is so neat._

"Father!" said Lingling as a man exited the front door to come meet them.

Ross thanked the fact Lingling had warned them about the 'Triad' thing because her father really looked like a mob boss. Nearly six feet tall and rather athletic, he was wearing a red silk shirt and black pants, with a signet ring on his right hand. He had short black hair and a goatee but the real reason he looked the part were the numerous scars he sported, several of which looked to have been caused by blades, on his face.

"Welcome, cousins!" said the man on a joyful tone that belied his rather scary face. "I am Feihong, Lingling's father. First, let's get you settled and then we'll have a drink around the pool…"

* * *

Desdemona relaxed on the deck chair, enjoying the sun's warmth as she took the welcome cocktail. It wasn't that the outside weather was that warm in Hong Kong at that time of the year, more like twenty degrees at most, but the pool was set in some kind of retractable greenhouse which also protected the definitely tropical plants that surrounded it during the winter.

Feihong had told them that magic just made the thing less expensive and that it allowed him to do things like having a glass roof you could tan under. He had also made sure that self-sizing magical swimwear was available in their room. Lazing for a few hours on a deck chair was in her opinion a very good way to get the jet lag out of her system.

Probably because of her undead nature, Lingling had declined joining them for long and went to cater to some family business. Ross was busy talking cricket with Feihong at a table, which left her temporarily alone and able to enjoy her rest.

"So you're Tenmei's kid," said a voice near her.

She looked around, at first seeing nothing… at least until her eyes went down and fell on someone she immediately dubbed as 'Chinese Yoda'. He was two feet tall, elderly looking with pointed ears, round glasses and long white hair. He was wearing white Chinese robes and was smoking from a thin, ebony and silver Chinese smoking pipe.

He jumped to stand on the deck chair next to her and started to gauge her. Her first reflex to cover herself was almost immediately overridden by her medical training. She knew that gaze. It was the one of a doctor in 'examination' mode. Also… she understood better why she had compared him to Yoda. There was something emanating from him, like an impression of contained power.

"Lingling's great-grandfather, I presume?" she asked, sitting to face him.

"Missing one great but I don't mind, great-great-grandfather is a mouthful. I am Touhou Fuhai. In your case, uncle would be appropriate too. While not bound by blood or even of the same species, we have fought side-by-side many times, even if our respective people always had complicated relationships."

"You're a Thuata dé Danann," she said, remembering what she had discussed with Ross about the old Celtic myths during the flight.

"We prefer Yaksha in this part of the world, just as your father's people is usually called Rakshasa. You know, normally I would have been playing the batty ancestor, testing your reactions… but I know better than to mock a mother's concern."

"Just like Yoda when he met Luke…"

"Only vaguely. I am a lot less boring than that green gnome… so, I suppose Tenmei told you about the seal on your 'monster' part."

"Can it be undone?"

"An interesting question. Why do you want to know?"

"Wizarding laws. Right now Hermione is legally speaking the daughter of two muggles. The British Ministry of Magic can declare us unfit without any justification and take her away."

"And you reasoned that renouncing your own humanity would void that concern…" he replied, dragging on his pipe. "You realize that as a rakshasa you will have a lifespan of several centuries. Your husband will be the one left behind."

"I know but… I also know how the wizards think. If they take her away, they will also take away our memories of her. There will be a hole in our soul where she should be and we won't even be able to know what's missing, to worry about what they are doing to her. Yes, me changing will hurt us, just as discovering Hermione had magic hurt us. But better a wound we can hope to heal together than one that will fester for the rest of our lives."

"What you ask is possible," he replied after a moment of silence. "Take some time to think about it because it's a one-way ticket and if it's not done right, it will kill you."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. Feihong here is my great-grandson and the current clan head. In my long life, I buried too many members of my own family. This is what you will have to do with your husband, sooner or later."

"I understand. Is that… Lingling?"

"In part. One thing: don't ever mention her current status to British wizards. For them, what I did is very dark magic."

* * *

Hermione looked at her reflection and nodded approvingly. This tiger-striped cheongsam was probably going to become a favorite of hers. As she had thought when buying it, it went very well with black silk pants and a pair of kung fu slippers. She went back to the duffel bag she had prepared for the trip to Hong Kong, zipped it and joined her grandfather on the living room's balcony. He was wearing his white monk robes, though without the headgear, and held a string of prayer beads.

"How are you?" asked Mikogami.

"Scared… I must really be a bad Gryffindor."

"Yet you are here and not locked in your room, refusing to move. In my opinion, bravery is the ability to act despite the fear, because we have judged that fulfilling our objective was more important than the risks. Rushing blindly on the other hand, ignoring the risk, that's recklessness."

"Calculated risks… seems a little Slytherin to me but I readily admit that my perception of Slytherin is skewed because of some people."

"Indeed. Cunning is an essential trait in warfare… which makes me think that whatever your choice regarding your education is, giving you some books to read and write an essay about is a good idea."

"On what topic?"

"Strategy and politics. It's time."

She touched the beads and felt herself violently dragged through space.

* * *

Desdemona was feeling very anxious as she looked at the clock. Hermione and her father would arrive in a few minutes and she was in no way certain she was ready. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It wasn't Ross, who was probably just as anxious as her and trying to distract himself by asking a few questions to Feihong, but Tiantian, Feihong's wife.

She had met the Yakshini the evening before and felt very conflicted that the twenty-something Asian beauty, clad in a black silk cheongsam that displayed the body of a dancer was in fact a little over fifty. Conflicted and not simply jealous because she could not help but think about Touhou Fuhai's warning regarding outliving people.

Still, they had bonded. Having nearly lost a daughter, Tiantian understood her fear regarding Hermione and they both knew that they would enjoy having a female friend they could talk to without having to hide so many things. Desdemona had learnt a few things about her cousin, like the fact she wasn't a dancer but one of the best martial artists in China. She had also presented to the Englishwoman her son Fangfang, who was looking very excited at the idea of meeting Hermione.

 _Just like Lingling said… he's starved for friends._

She smiled to Tiantian and returned her attention to the room. It was octagonal, its floor embedded with a complex lattice of lines surrounding a yin and yang sign. Fuhai had told her that the house had barriers preventing teleportation and that this room was the only one where someone could arrive, provided they used the correct codes when casting the spell. He had also told her that Hogwarts had a similar system but he didn't know if it had any exception or choke point.

 _That's at least one good thing about this whole recent mess: we're finally getting straight answers to our questions._

Two shapes shimmered into existence in the middle of the room. One was her father, dressed in white monk robes, tall and imposing. The second one was Hermione, who was looking at Ross and her, worry all too visible in her three eyes.

Desdemona started to move forward but was interrupted by a small white blur yelling something in Cantonese while it aimed for Hermione. It was about to reach her when it was intercepted by her father's fist. The white blur stopped, revealing Touhou Fuhai who somersaulted back.

"Nice to see that some things don't change," said her father in English. "I'm glad to see you, old friend, but I would prefer if you restrained yourself in front of my granddaughter."

"Please Mikogami… sorry, Miss but you are like Pai and Lum in the same adorable package," replied Fuhai.

"Eh?" replied Hermione, not even knowing what he was talking about.

"My old friend here reads a lot of manga and probably made some kind of reference to them."

Desdemona had barely heard the exchange. She just took advantage of the absence of motion to move forward and hug her daughter. It would be all right now. Hermione was here. She didn't care about the horns, the third eye or to say anything about her new clothes. All that mattered was to reassure both Hermione and herself. As she felt her daughter hug her back, she knew that things would be better now.

* * *

"… and that's how Harry stopped Professor Quirrell from stealing the Stone," said Hermione.

Hermione took a sip of tea to help soothe her parched throat and had a worried look at her parents. After the initial greetings, her grandfather had insisted that they first got the nasty business out of the way. So they had gone to her uncle's Fuhai pavilion and she had started to talk. She had told her parents, her grandfather and her uncle Fuhai about those things she had omitted about her first year, mostly out of fear that they would take her out of Hogwarts. So she had told them about the Philosopher's Stone in first, including the Cerberus guarding it and the attempts by a Voldemort-possessed Professor Quirrell to steal it and her role in helping Harry to stop him. The worst was that she still had the events of last fall to tell them about.

"I don't know what to say," said Desdemona. "You are definitely in trouble for not telling us about that, young lady, but some things do not make sense in your story."

"I assure you it's the truth, Mum."

"Desdemona, you are not looking at those events with the right perspective," said Mikogami.

"What do you mean?"

"What Hermione said makes sense from a different point of view. Let's start with the defenses set up to protect the Stone. First, the vault was set up in a zone repurposed for it and its entrance point advertised during the opening ceremony. I have taught long enough to know that telling teenagers that someplace is now forbidden is a good way of inciting them to check it. It would have been far better to put it in a place routinely off-limits and not tell the students about it. Second, the initial lock was something simple, that could be bypassed with a basic unlocking spell. Dumbledore is more than skilled enough to set up a ward that will need serious power to breach and that will warn him of any intrusion."

"Correct," added Fuhai while exhaling a smoke ring. "Then there is the matter of the various obstacles. From Hermione's description, they had been carefully designed to look impressive and just that. When you start to look beyond the complexity of the charms used you realize that each of them is actually rather simple to overcome. The means needed for that makes it clear that their intended public was not Voldemort, but Hermione and her allies. Flitwick's flying keys needed the talent of a Quidditch Seeker, a perfect fit for Harry. The animated statues needed a chess player… and you had Ron Weasley, who has a well-known reputation on the matter…"

"And the one with the potions relied on my mind," finished Hermione. "And there was only enough for one person to go to the final room… everything was set up so that Harry faced Quirrell."

"Exactly," said Mikogami. "When you start looking at the events this way, a picture forms. I fully agree that this is not a nice one, Desdemona, but it makes sense."

"You mean that he knew about this professor being possessed?" replied a very angry mother.

"Dumbledore and I live in a world where possession and mind control are documented facts. If one of my teachers came back from vacation with a radical behavior change, you could be sure I would have him undergo a full physical and magical examination, against his will if needed. If Dumbledore didn't, then either he has become senile or the situation somehow suited him."

"But…" started Hermione, stopping as she considered the facts and remembered that books could lie. Most of what she knew about Dumbledore came from books which might have a bias.

"So this Voldemort is some kind of undead?" asked Ross.

"I spoke on the matter a few times with British wizards who flew to Hong Kong when Voldemort was active," said Fuhai. "Nobody has seen his body but the common opinion in Britain is that that one of his spells backfired spectacularly when he tried to kill Harry Potter, after killing his parents. I have some ideas on the why, but nothing precise. Now, is it possible to take precautions against death? The answer is yes.

"If all you want is a long life, there are alchemical methods that are well-known in China and to some extent in Europe, Flamel being one famous European example. Reattaching a soul to a body and make it a sentient undead is likewise possible but it's not something you can do on yourself, you need someone you trust enough to do it to you and we cannot consider that in Voldemort's case."

"There is that Russian legend about a king called… Koschei, I think," said Ross.

"Yes, that Voldemort hid his soul like that old bastard is a definite possibility," replied Mikogami with a sigh. "And yes, Koschei is real and undead as we speak, though most wizards in the West are blissfully ignorant of that fact. Hermione, I think it is better to get to last fall's events."

"Right. Things started pretty much normally, Malfoy being his usual his usual nasty self…"

She continued, describing Lockhart's first lesson and the events leading to Halloween when the first petrified victim – Argus Filch's cat – was found, with the warning about the Chamber of Secrets, the other victims and how they decided to check what Malfoy knew on the matter… which ended with her drinking the fouled Polyjuice.

"How can they… a normal school would have been closed for complete inspection," said Ross.

"Which is probably the goal of the person engineering those events," replied Mikogami.

"Hermione… how could you…" started Desdemona,

"Mum… I was afraid, afraid you and Dad would pull me out of Hogwarts and force me to renounce magic. Afraid to lose the first real friends I had… afraid to…"

Feeling her anger melt at the sight of her crying daughter, Desdemona hugged her.

"What are our options?" asked Ross.

"Let's put aside the events at Hogwarts for now," replied Mikogami. "I can enroll Hermione at my school, though that's not without issues. One of the main problems will be the language barrier as she will have to learn Japanese. Another is that our curriculum is different but that's nothing she cannot overcome. A problem this solution will not fix though is the matter of the friends she has in Hogwarts. Fuhai?"

"I can take her as an apprentice which would guarantee her magical education. Fangfang would probably also be happy to have a friend his age around."

"Mum, Dad… I know there are bad things happening there but I would like to go back to Hogwarts for the rest of the school year. Harry and Ron… those two idiots need me," she said with a weak smile.

"Right… one thing after another: how will the wizards react to her being a Fomorian?" asked Ross.

"It depends who you ask," replied Mikogami. "Dumbledore will not like it but he cannot discriminate against her without looking like a huge hypocrite. Among the old families now… this is going to be interesting."

"Why?" asked Desdemona

"To be short, the Celtic myths are right regarding our people's fate: most of us left for Otherworld," said Fuhai. "But before that, when the humans were still in the Neolithic, we had full kingdoms on Earth. Unfortunately, many of the archeological proofs were destroyed by the wizards when they implemented the Statute of Secrecy. Even for them, we have become a legend… except for some old families who maintain traditions from before the status. One of the English ones…"

"The Black family would be the most evident one, but it's reduced to almost nothing these days," said Mikogami. "What's important is that if your lineage is known, these families will probably revise their opinion about you very quickly."

"Just one side-question about Otherworld," said Hermione. "Are there still gates leading there?"

"Most of them were destroyed and from what little I know, many have the problem of being one-way passages," replied Fuhai. "I will show you an example of the runic work you can expect to find on such a gate later."

"As uncomfortable I am with the idea of sending Hermione back there, I understand her wish to help her friends as the teachers do not seem very concerned about their students' well-being," said Ross. "If – and I'm not saying I have reached any decision on the matter yet – we allow her to go back, what can we do to make things safer for her?"

"Quite a few things," replied Mikogami, his trademark sadistic smirk on full display. "First there is the matter of her wand. Fuhai, I would like to see if Hermione can master the Compliant Rod."

"Yes… she may be able to do it," replied Fuhai with a smile.


	4. The Compliant Rod

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. Your opinions are always welcome._

 _I corrected a small mistake in Chapter 1 after I finally found a calendar of the original events of Chamber of Secrets. As Nearly Headless Nick was already petrified on 25 Dec, he was not able to comment on Hermione's transformation. Sorry about this._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

To be honest, the first time she had seen Fangfang, Hermione had thought he was a girl. His fine facial features leaned rather heavily on his mother's side and the long hair in a pigtail that nearly went to his waist didn't help. She had since learned a few things about how Confucianism influenced hairstyles for centuries in China, the basic idea being that you don't cut what your parents gave you, and how the Manchu invasion of China influenced it. He had also told her that he kept the pigtail for practical reasons when doing martial arts, and that it had no relation with the 'pigtail on the back and shaved head on the front' hairstyle the Manchus imposed – under penalty of death – on the Hans.

She had a look at him, seeing him frown from his three eyes. His third eye was different from hers though. Her own third eye was kind of like her two others, only more symmetrical regarding its shape and in fact pretty much like the one of that Pai character Touhou Fuhai had shown her a drawing of in a story called 3x3 Eyes. He had told her she could borrow the manga and the OAV from his library if she wanted.

Fangfang's third eye now was a symmetrical lens with the two points on a vertical axis, similar to the one seen on some representations of Shiva. Likewise, its eyelid functioned differently, with the left and right part meeting in the middle. Closing it was probably mixed with some transformational magical effect as the eye completely disappeared from his brow when he did it. Of course, he didn't have any horns but pointed, elfin ears like Touhou Fuhai.

She returned her attention to the cards between them, noticing the monster he had just summoned and how many land cards he still had available. He had introduced her to his favorite game, a human card game called 'Magic: The Gathering'. She could not help but find it hilarious that a member of a family reputed for its skill at the summoning arts was fond of that game.

 _But it also serves to train some very useful behaviors regarding real magic: use the right summon or spell for the right situation and manage your energy carefully… of course, strategically, I'm at a disadvantage since I'm playing with a deck Fangfang lent me. If this was a real battle, that would mean that he knows my troops' composition, my reserves and my supplies._

She was quite happy that this game required so much attention on her part. It helped her not to think too much about the fact the adults were currently discussing her fate in another wing of the manor. True, she had told them what she would like to do but…

"I wouldn't mind if you stayed here, you know," said Fangfang.

"I… thank you, but…"

"I'm sure Great-Grandfather would enjoy teaching you… Lingling lost a lot of magic when she died and… I'm not as good as Father with it while I heard you were very good," he continued, obviously embarrassed.

She remembered her first encounters with Neville Longbottom and how he had said very similar things about not being as good as his parents and how he feared to be a disappointment to his grandmother, the formidable Augusta Longbottom. Yet, she could not shake the feeling that all Neville lacked was self-confidence… and that Fangfang was probably the same.

 _Crap… the fact Lingling is an undead is not even fazing me anymore… just another fact I filed._

"Hermione, can you come with me?" asked Lingling, entering the living room they had been playing in. "Your parents want to talk to you."

* * *

Hermione didn't like her parents' expressions. Thankfully, it was just the three of them right now but she could not shake the feeling that she was about to hear bad news.

"We have discussed the matter. I am sorry, but letting you back to Hogwarts immediately is out of the question," said Desdemona.

That confirmed it. She could not deny that she had thought about that scenario and that she would not necessarily get what she wanted. She knew that her parents were likely to punish her for all the things she omitted telling them about Hogwarts.

"We understand that you wish to help your friends, Hermione," added Ross, "but the situation there is already… volatile and Fomorians do not have a good reputation with the Ministry. The chance they use you as a scapegoat is just too high. Until you are able to control your appearance, it is better for you to stay in Asia."

"I understand… I don't like it but I understand," she replied, barely holding back her tears. "Can I at least write to Harry and Ron? I was thinking of asking grandfather if he can ask his friend to relay the letters… I have no idea how long an owl would take to go from Japan to England."

"Of course you can write to your friends, little tiger," replied Ross, "but we need to talk about what you can disclose and how. I know you won't like lying to your friends and we don't like that very much, either, but letters can be intercepted. Later, when you can talk to them without fear of being overheard, things will be different."

"So if I can't tell them what happened to me…"

"The official story is actually close to the truth. The potion you drank had unexpected consequences and you are currently following a treatment abroad. Still officially, your grandfather was a pureblood wizard who was Touhou Fuhai's apprentice and I am a squib," replied Desdemona. "We turned to my father's teacher to help you with your problem, which explains why you are here in China."

"The only lie in that being that ojiisan is a wizard… it can work for a while, I guess, but Dumbledore already knows what I am."

"He does but your grandfather thinks it unlikely that he will disclose it, for the same reason we do not want you to go back now," replied Ross. "Regarding what you said about faxing your letters to Mr. Stockton, we will keep the same idea, but go through a different channel. We do not want to bring attention on the fact we know him at this point. Instead, as your presence here will be known, we'll use the Huang company to transmit your letters. Our cousins have offices in Glasgow, because of the shipyards. The magicals working for them there will set up an owl-to-fax service so that you can communicate with Hogwarts."

"This means I'm staying here rather than enrolling at ojiisan's school?"

"Yes, this is better as a short-term solution," replied Desdemona. "Tiantian and Uncle Fuhai don't see any problem with having you taking part in Fangfang's lessons and helping you to master taking a human shape. I will also stay here as…"

Desdemona gripped her husband's hand.

"… as I asked your grandfather to remove my seal."

"Mum? Are you…"

"Yes. It hasn't been an easy decision but I have to think about our family's security."

* * *

"Still no news from Hermione?" asked Ron as he sat near Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"Not yet but the owls… here they come."

As the Great Hall started to fill with the few students and teachers there on the 31st of December morning, the post owls started to fly down to deliver their mail. One of them dropped a letter right in front of Harry. This made the two frown. It was not the fact that he had received a letter but its nature.

The envelope wasn't wizarding parchment but a white muggle paper one put in a sealed, transparent plastic bag with small hard plastic handles that seemed designed to help an owl handle the bag without risk of its claws tearing it. It was addressed to Harry Potter in clear, printed characters instead of written manually. The envelope also bore a corporate logo figuring three yellow diamonds and the name of the Sanbao Trading Company. It had a return address in Glasgow on the back.

"Harry, mate, are you sure…" started Ron.

"Apart from being delivered by owl, it looks like the business letters my uncle sometimes receives."

"But why would muggles… Sanbao. I'm pretty sure I heard Dad say something about that name once."

Harry frowned. Arthur Weasley was working at the Ministry, in the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Given the strange mix of muggle and wizard in that situation, he wouldn't be surprised if he visited the offices of the Sanbao Trading Company.

"Do you remember what he said?"

"No… well, I think I know who would know but…"

"Percy?" asked Harry, naming Ron's least favorite brother.

"Percy."

Harry shrugged. It wasn't that Percy was that bad but the Gryffindor Prefect was a stickler for the rules and he didn't want to deal with that kind of aggravation right now. He filed the thought away, in case it was needed later. He opened the envelope, noticing it contained a letter with a small card with the same corporate logo paperclipped to it. He read that one first.

 _Mr. Potter, this message was sent to us from our Hong Kong headquarters on the 30_ _th_ _of December, with instructions to forward it to you. Should you have a reply, please owl us at this address and we will gladly transmit it._

 _Renxian Zheng, Wizarding Liaison Office, SBTC_

"Hong Kong?" said Ron after reading the card. "Why do you receive letters from China?"

"Do you know something about magical Hong Kong?"

"Not much. When You-Know-Who was still here, there were wizards who emigrated there. Most of them came back after the War ended. I remember hearing that things are really different and that there are many more non-humans there."

"The letter is from Hermione," he said, handing him the item.

 _Dear Harry and Ron,_

 _I'm afraid I have some bad news. I had some kind of unusual reaction to that potion and getting rid of the aftereffects is a lot more complicated than first expected. I am abroad to help with that and I don't know at the moment when I will be able to return to Hogwarts._

 _Why abroad? It appears that I am not completely a muggleborn. My Mom discovered that she is magical, even though she has not cast any spells. Dumbledore managed to discover who my grandfather was and contacted him on Christmas Day. After that, my grandfather brought me to his old teacher in Hong Kong, because Asia has a lot fewer problems dealing with people with my kind of issues._

 _This brings me to something I want to tell you two as quickly as possible, because you will probably hear things about places like magical China being bad or even 'dark'. Well, it's true that my grandfather's teacher is sometimes called the Dark Lord Touhou Fuhai but he is not evil. It's just that things are definitely different here. It's not like in Britain where the Centaurs or the Merfolk live apart from the wizards, only communicating when needed. Here, all kinds of ayashi (that's what grandfather calls magical people) mingle freely. The whole culture is different and I am still getting used to it. What I want you two to understand is that there will be people who think it's bad here just because it's different. To use one of Snape's favorite words, these people are dunderheads. One good thing though with all those species mingling is that people around here have a lot fewer problems with issues like mine... anyway, sifu (that's how Touhou Fuhai told me to address him during our lessons, it's like 'Master' in the traditional master-apprentice relationship for Chinese sorcerers) told me that he would arrange with Hogwarts to have the whole British curriculum, so that I don't get behind during my convalescence here._

 _We also arranged with my cousins from Hong Kong for our letters to go through the Sanbao Trading Company. They are in business both on the magical and the muggle sides, which is common for ayashi in Asia. You can just owl any letter for me to their Glasgow office and I will get it in one or two days._

 _I know that sucks and I can't help but think about those who are waiting petrified in the infirmary. I told sifu about it and we will do research on the clues we have so far. So if anything happens, I trust you to keep me informed. By the way, sifu told me another very important thing for you, Harry: Parseltongue is not evil. He said the bad reputation it had in Europe was a combination of the Christian snake symbolism and the bad wizards who claimed to be heirs of Slytherin. For example, the Egyptians had a whole different opinion and you would have been considered blessed by the goddess Wadjet there… but I'm starting to rant._

 _Take care you two. I'll write more soon._

 _Hermione_

 _PS: Ron, just because I'm not there is no excuse not to do your homework._

"Hey! That's…" said Ron as he reached the post-scriptum.

"I will write back with what we learned recently," cut in Harry. "Ron… I think we should keep where she is to ourselves."

"I see what you mean… I'm a little jealous that she gets to be abroad and all though."

* * *

"Ah! Minerva, Severus, please sit down," said Dumbledore as the Deputy Headmistress and the Potion Master entered his office.

"I suppose this is about Granger," said Snape.

"What happened to her?" asked McGonagall. "I heard from Poppy that she was admitted to the hospital wing on Christmas Day and left the school a day later to 'see a specialist'. When I asked her for details, she told me to ask you once you were back and she looked very afraid."

"Yes. I unfortunately had to cater to some things with the Wizengamot and told Poppy to keep things vague. Severus, I suppose you guessed what happened to her?"

"In part. The potions that Poppy asked me to brew are very specific but I unfortunately could not determine how she got her hands on Polyjuice. I can only hope that this… misadventure will cure her of her Gryffindor rashness."

"Polyjuice? Merlin's beard! What did happen?" asked McGonagall, obviously shocked.

"I do not know how or why Miss Granger acquired that potion but it is clear that she made a mistake when using it. Cat hair was involved from what I understood. However problematic this is, though, what happened after is both stranger and direr," replied Dumbledore. "This accident revealed that Miss Granger is not a muggleborn."

"The missing grandfather?" asked McGonagall.

"What is this about?" asked Snape.

"Severus, there was until very recently a hole in Miss Granger's genealogy. Her maternal grandfather was completely unknown. The accident undid a series of complex seals, revealing her true heritage."

"It cannot be as simple as this grandfather being a wiz… unless it was Him," said Snape.

"I am sad to say that her being Voldemort's granddaughter would have been simpler to manage," replied Dumbledore. "No, Miss Granger is a Fomorian."

Severus Snape was about to make a disbelieving retort but he remembered that strange unease on Christmas Day. There was also the problem of the Bloody Baron. The normally sullen Slytherin Ghost had been very cheerful for the last days. It was as if something had cast aside the revenant's grief and then he came to him with that outlandish request… a request that Hermione Granger being a Fomorian explained quite nicely.

He looked at Minerva. The Scotswoman was deadly pale. He had a fair idea of why. Like many wizarding children, she had probably heard the stories. While the Tales of Beedle the Bard were the favorites of most wizarding children, there was another kind they often knew, a kind somewhere between mythology and muggle ghost stories. Never really written down but passed orally to follow some forgotten usage that he suspected to be an injunction of the ancient druids, often told in hushed words by House Elf nannies, they were the stories of the Ancient Ones. She had probably grown up hearing about the beauty and the cruelty of the inhuman magical kingdoms, of the terrible power they held.

He was wiser of course. In Istanbul, he had read tomes banned by Europe's magical nations. He knew why so many so-called modern wizards scoffed at the idea of the stories being real. They did their best to ridicule them because the alternative was intolerable to them. If the stories were real, then they would have to admit that some species were naturally more gifted than wizards at magic. Even worse, Severus Snape had read in those tomes that the first wizards were either the half-breed children of the Ancient Ones' pleasure slaves or those who underwent unholy ceremonies at the hand of their inhuman masters. He had dismissed it back then, thinking it to be the insane ramblings of a demented Byzantine wizard.

 _But now… Granger's mere existence puts everything back in question._

"I see that you both understand the importance of what happened and why we cannot afford for this information to spread. Despite her blood, Miss Granger is innocent," said Dumbledore.

"Where is she?" asked Snape.

"Currently in Hong Kong," replied the headmaster, his finger tapping on the letter on his desk. "She found a tutor there who will teach her the techniques the Asian non-human Beings use to take a human appearance. Minerva, the tutor asked us to provide him with the full second year curriculum to ensure he covers everything."

"It can be done but we will need to test her when… if she comes back. I doubt that the Ministry will recognize some foreign wizard," replied the witch.

"I think we do not have to be worried about the quality of the education he will give her. In fact, I am certain that a certificate signed by that man would make quite an impression with the Department of Magical Education," replied Dumbledore, handing her the letter.

She started to shake as she read the letter written on white muggle paper. She muttered a thank you when she noticed that the headmaster had levitated a bottle of Firewhisky and poured a glass to each of them. She handed the letter to Snape.

"Touhou Fuhai…" said the Potion master, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He would have to warn Draco Malfoy and tell him to either find a way to get into her good graces or to avoid her at all costs. Even if the young lad assaulted her with demeaning barbs just like the rest of the Gryffindors as part of the act he had to play because of his family politics, he had shared with his House Head that his real opinion of the young girl was different. It was not only her intelligence or her results but the fact that he had started to understand why she devoured knowledge with the voracity of a piranha. Her goal was not knowledge for its own sake which was why she wasn't in Ravenclaw. No, what was important for Hermione Granger was the power that knowledge gave her. This was not something she had understood about herself yet but Snape had little doubt that being the student of the Dark Lord Touhou Fuhai would change that. The Chinese sorcerer would allow her to shed her lion skin and reveal the snake she really was.

Snape and Draco had both wondered what could have been had she been sorted in his House. Her blood status would not have made things easy. As a muggleborn, her best bet would have been to find herself a pureblood protector and become the power behind the throne, a role Draco would have gladly played. But, as a Fomorian, everything went upside down. Snape could think of quite a few students in his House who would flock to her in hopes that she became the next Dark Lady.

 _Which must be why the Baron asked me to support her re-sorting. He was never happy with Voldemort's influence spreading in Slytherin. He expects her to shift the balance. Note to self: if the Asian Dark Lords get in the conversation regularly, some things are going to get confusing._

"Is Touhou Fuhai an Ancient One?" he asked.

"A good question," replied Dumbledore. "From what Flamel told me about his travels in China, I know he is several centuries old but that's it. He could very well be one of the Chinese alchemists who managed to extend their own life. What I can say for sure is that he is not Miss Granger's grandfather. I know who that person is but I promised not to disclose this information to anyone for now. Regarding Miss Granger, where she is will be known but we will hide her new nature for the time being. As far as the Ministry is concerned, her mother was revealed to be a squib. Miss Granger has been told to use the same story in any letter she could send to Britain, including to her friends."

"How long will she have to lie?" asked McGonagall.

"I don't know," replied Dumbledore. "For now Touhou Fuhai told me he would see what progress she has made after two months."

* * *

Hermione looked with great interest as her grandfather set a long, narrow box on the table. She wondered at its dimensions, though, given what it was supposed to contain. The black, lacquered wooden box was better suited for a broom than a wand. She also wondered why there was a gold filigree representing a monkey on it. Mikogami opened the box, revealing the item inside. It was neither a broom nor a wand but a black metal staff, maybe three centimeters in diameter and nearly six feet long, with an intricate bas-relief along all its length. The only touch of color on the item were the two series of three jade rings snugged around each end of the staff.

From what she knew, staves were among the oldest magical foci, the difference between them and wands being similar to the one between rifles and pistols: more powerful but also less practical. They had fallen out of favor after the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy and were nowadays only used for some ceremonial purposes in British wizarding society, usually as a symbol of authority wielded by the Minister of Magic or the Chief Warlock. There was one problem with the staff she was seeing, though. Wands and staffs were normally made of wood.

"What kind of metal is this?" asked Ross.

"A rather complex alloy the Fomorians were fond of for their weapons. It's mostly tungsten and carbon though I doubt this exact quality can be obtained without magic," replied Fuhai.

"A sort of tungsten carbide? I have some dentist drills in that material. It's mostly used because of its hardness and… the magic makes it more resistant to shocks?"

"Yes," replied Mikogami. "The magical process to craft the alloy is not even that complicated but its weight can make things problematic. A steel armor or weapon is already heavy enough and this will weight roughly double a steel equivalent. For example, the staff currently weighs twenty kilograms."

"Currently?" asked Hermione. "It has built-in lightening charms?"

"Not exactly," replied Fuhai with a smile. "A bit of history regarding this item will probably be welcome so that you can understand why it works that way. So, a long time ago, near the end of a drunken evening, three young idiots called Touhou Fuhai, Tenmei Mikogami and Akasha Bloodriver had a discussion about the famous _Journey to the West_ novel and its hero Sun Wukong. In particular, they discussed the capacities of the Monkey King's weapon: The Ruyi Jingu Bang or Compliant, Golden-Hooped Rod. It could have stayed just a late evening rant if Akasha had not gotten it in her head that it would be a wonderful team building event to take a shot at recreating it."

"We quickly realized that the staff as it was in the novel would be impossible to recreate, not even talking about using it," continued Mikogami. "Among other things, the legendary Compliant Rod is said to weigh eight tons and keep its mass no matter its current size. We then decided to tailor the specifications to our own needs. Among other things, we decided to make it a magical focus."

"After that, we set to gather the needed components. The alloy about which I spoke was a challenge in itself, that had us delving in old Fomorian ruins in the jungle of Borneo."

"That one was easy in my opinion," immediately retorted Mikogami. "The transformer bat blood, now that was a pain… and Akasha found those things cute! Anyway, after a few adventures we managed to craft this item."

"If this item took so much to create, why are you not using it?" asked Desdemona, looking suspiciously at her father.

"There are two linked reasons behind that," replied Mikogami. "The first was because it took us years to complete this project and the young idiots we were had matured a lot during that time. We had each developed our own skills and the bond of friendship between us. This brings me to the second reason. As you suspect, there is a catch. Contrarily to a wand, the Rod will adapt to any master of our three bloodlines but it will only accept another master after the death of the previous one."

"So rather than let it strain your friendship, you put it away?" asked back Desdemona.

"It seemed fairer at the time," replied Fuhai. "We kept the Rod as the symbol of our friendship and when our ways separated, it was more or less forgotten. Now that Akasha is not among us anymore, it's up to the two of us to agree to bestow the Rod to someone. We have agreed that Hermione should be the one to wield our legacy."

Hermione looked wide-eyed at the two elders. They were going to let her wield something that important? From what she had just been told, the Rod was pretty much the symbol of the alliance between their families.

"Ojiisan, Uncle Fuhai, I promise I will be worthy of your trust," she finally said, bowing to the two of them.

She took the staff, putting her hands below its supports inside the box. She felt a jolt as her skin made contact with the black metal. On its surface, the wave-like motif of the bas-relief started to move, its curves reorganizing in Escher-esque lines. There was something, a feeling that prompted in her mind the image of a cat stretching after a nap. It wasn't that surprising. Wands were quasi-sentients after all so a focus like this one had to be, too.

She lifted it, thanking her Fomorian strength. She could feel her magic flow through it as the lines on the surface continued to morph, as if the pattern was keying itself to her. The feeling was very different from the vine wand Ollivander had… as she pictured her old wand in her mind, she felt a reaction coming from the Rod as if it was asking: 'is this what you want?'

She thought back a 'yes'. She grinned as the staff shrunk in her hands, becoming a roughly thirty centimeters long wand. She understood better her grandfather's remark about the item's weight. It was the solution they had found to the problem of some foci being better at a given task. They had created one that could modify its characteristics depending on its master's wishes.

 _It's like the Swiss Army Knife of w…_

In her hand, the Rod had reacted to her mental picture again, becoming a dagger. It wasn't anything near a real Swiss Army Knife, rather like a medieval dagger and the metal was still black.

"Can it transform into anything I can picture mentally?" she asked as she morphed it back to wand-mode.

"There are limitations. While we never tested it for it, the Rod probably cannot duplicate a complex technological system," replied her grandfather. "Another issue you may not have noticed yet but that will need training is that while its weight adapts, its mass stays the same."

"Got it, inertia will be a problem. May I…"

"Of course, but not here," replied Fuhai, motioning for them to follow him to the neighboring room.

She had wondered why they had gathered in a kind of break room under the manor, thinking that maybe the safe the Rod was stored into was an underground vault. Now she understood better. The break room was probably used by the manor's security personnel and the room next to it was a shooting range. She took a spot in one of the lanes and looked at the dummy twenty meters away.

 _A severing charm should do it._

"Diffindo!", she said, swiping her hand as she would have in class and instantly realizing she had a lot of work before her.

Contrarily to her old wand, the Rod had no issue at all channeling her magic. It was lucky because instead of the faint green ray that should have precisely cut the dummy along the torso, she had shot some kind of acid green, pulsating death ray that ripped the poor manikin to shreds and left deep gouges in the armored steel plate behind it. She didn't even want to think about what that kind of charm could do if she decided to give it her all.

She took a breath, trying to reduce the amount of magic she channeled. She could overcome that. It was just a matter of training.

"Diffindo," she whispered, generating this time an unstable, but almost normally powered charm.

She really didn't want to think of what could have happened in Hogwarts if she had been left with that kind of power and nobody with an idea of how to control it. As much as she hated being stuck here, she now realized that it was the right decision for many reasons.

"Uncle Fuhai?" she asked. "I think we have a lot of work before us."

"Indeed."


	5. New leads and new deals

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. I am always glad to hear what you have to say about my stories._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

"Lingling… are you sure I'm not imposing…" said Hermione as she followed Lingling through the halls.

"Of course not, cousin. I can lay on a bed but I cannot rest in it. I know it sounds cliché but I need a properly blessed tomb to be really comfy. So I have a nice crypt suite below the manor, with all the necessary. For example, my body needs regular maintenance so I have a lab for that."

"Maintenance? You mean that your body doesn't heal by itself?"

"I can regenerate wounds up to a point but I need it if I don't want to start looking like a corpse and keep full mobility. Having to hop like one of those movie jiangshi is just embarrassing. So, from time to time, I take a nice, long bath in restorative potions. Most of my stuff is already in my crypt anyway. I was just keeping this place… out of nostalgia."

Lingling had opened a door, revealing a bedroom with furniture that managed to mix traditional Chinese motifs and high-tech feeling that gave her the impression of the décor of some cyberpunk Asian movie. The dominant colors were green, black and chrome but she sagely decided that the style was different enough for her not to make any parallel with the Slytherin green and silver.

The room was split in the half, with mobile silk screens that could be closed to isolate the bed from the study part. The study was near the hall, with a large L-shaped desk occupying a corner. From the way the thing had been assembled, Hermione was pretty sure Lingling had used a part of it as a kind of workbench.

"When the screens are closed, it creates a privacy ward on the bed… though I think it will be a few years before you really need it," continued Lingling with a grin.

"Before I… Oh," replied Hermione whose face was turning an interesting shade of red as she looked at the bed.

"Do not worry about this, I had the mattress changed… You have the bathroom behind this door. It only has a shower but you have a bigger common one down the hall."

"And this one?" she asked pointing another sliding silk screen in the wall.

"It's a walk-in closet and I have to show you a few things about it," replied the undead while making the screen slide.

Behind the aperture was a narrow room lined with shelves and hanging rails. Hermione was thinking that she would probably only fill a tenth of it when she saw Lingling hit a hidden button below a shelf. Panels slid silently, revealing other, currently empty shelves that she guessed to be designed for more martial accessories.

"Of course, you do not have your own weapons… yet. I know you have the Rod but there may be situations where you cannot use it so I want you properly trained in weapon use. We'll start to fill them once I have taught you the basics. I'm sure you'll find something that suits you. I'm partial to Israeli craftsmanship personally."

"My parents…"

"Honestly, with the damage you did in the shooting range earlier, I think they both realized that a wand is a lethal weapon."

"And the last door?" asked Hermione, not wanting to delve on that particular topic right now.

"This room's and my brother are adjoining, with a common sitting room between the two. As you will share several of your lessons, it will also give you a space to study together."

As she carefully watched Lingling's expression, Hermione finally thought she understood why the woman was clinging to this cursed half-life. Unlike many legendary undead, she wasn't motivated by some kind of twisted desire of revenge or a desire to escape death at any cost. Lingling was doing all that for her family, because being undead meant she could be here for them and help and it was more important than resting in peace for her. Likewise, the real reason why she was giving her old room to her newest cousin was because she hoped it would be good for her brother.

"Thank you, Lingling."

"No big deal at all… let's join the others downstairs. Even if it's not true New Year, it doesn't mean we cannot enjoy a good meal for the 31st of December."

"True… of course, for you New Year is about the Chinese calendar."

"Of course indeed. As it's likely you'll be around by then, you will see that it's quite a different affair."

* * *

"Cousin, wake up!"

Hermione opened her eyes slowly and they soon fell on Fangfang's face. The boy seemed terribly embarrassed and she wondered why. Suddenly, as the gears inside her brain started to spin, some things started to make sense. She remembered the party last night. Even if the Huangs had, as a whole, confirmed that the real New Year party would be beginning of February when they entered in the Year of the Ram, things had gotten quite lively, with excellent Chinese food.

She remembered smiling as she saw her Dad get along so well with cousin Feihong. She had worried about him since her Mum had told her about wanting to become a Fomorian. Once it was done, he would be the only human in the family and… the fairy tales about interspecies romance had a tendency to end in tragedy.

"Eh… Good morning, Hermione," said Fangfang, cutting through her thoughts. "I'm really sorry to barge in your room but a maid came to fetch you. Mikogami-sama wants to see you. I told the maid I would bring you there."

"Thanks and Good morning too… how soon…"

"By ten, which means you have a little more than ten minutes."

"Drat, not enough time for a shower," she replied, getting up.

"I'll wait for you in the sitting room," he replied, getting even more embarrassed.

Other gears started to spin in her brain and she now had a good idea of why Fangfang had been embarrassed. A few days ago, when buying her clothes at Ms. Watanabe's place, she had let the spider-woman convince her to go for a nightie and dressing gown ensemble rather than a pajama. She thought that as it was reasonably long and made of opaque red silk with motifs of white oni masks, it wouldn't be too risqué…

She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she entered the walk-in closet. As much as some people at Hogwarts treated her like one of the boys, she had been made more aware of her girl status for over a year, when starting to wear a bra had become the sensible thing to do and when, some time later, a certain set of cramps had decided to give her a visit and promised to return regularly.

In Hogwarts, it hadn't really mattered. She was wearing loose robes most of the time and had no intention at all of discussing the matter with the other Gryffindor girls. She intended to concentrate on her studies and whatever crap life in Hogwarts would throw at her and her friends. She would only do the minimum to feel comfortable and only think later about things like being pretty or dating.

After Christmas, though, everything had changed. Becoming a Fomorian had forced her to think a lot about her own body. Accepting her physical changes had become a matter of keeping her sanity. When she tried the clothes at Ms. Watanabe's place, the seamstress had in fact forced her to realize that she could be pretty. She had decided then that taking a little more care of herself wouldn't kill her. Now, seeing her cousin's reaction…

 _Now we calm down. Yes, it was nice to see him pay attention to the fact I'm a girl but that's it. In two, three years I might consider dating if I'm not too busy just surviving by then._

She dressed up, taking care to keep things tame and casual. She took her wand, sticking it in the rear pocket of her pants, and rejoined Fangfang in their common sitting room.

"Here, all set. Sorry for before…"

"No, that's me, cousin. I should have known that with you being alive… Lingling usually sleeps all dressed up."

She decided not to push things further. The topic was obviously uneasy for him. She just let him lead her toward a section of the hall's wall. He rotated one of the wooden motifs and a panel slid, revealing an elevator. She followed him inside and noticed the various buttons with inscriptions in Chinese.

 _Looks like I have two eastern languages I need to master at least a little bit very quickly…_

"We're going to sub-level two. That's where the labs are," said the boy as he pushed the third button from the bottom. "We'll have some of our lessons there."

"That's a lot of sub-levels," she replied, pointing at the buttons.

"We built a big bomb shelter under the house some fifty years ago. Most of it is used for storage now but it's a nice place to play hide-and-seek…"

He was interrupted by the opening door. They soon found themselves in a white-painted concrete hall lighted by fluorescent tubes. With the bomb shelter reference her cousin had just made, the architecture was anything but surprising for Hermione.

"The way you're moving is a little funny," said Fangfang.

"It's that wand," replied Hermione, taking the Rod out of her back pocket. "I'm not sure how to explain, but it's because its mass and its weight are not in sync… It's as if it was attached to something and resisting when I want to make it turn."

"So, that's why your balance is all off. Mother has some training bracers that have just the opposite effect: they're heavier than they should be and you move all wrong with them at first. I found out that keeping things symmetrical helps… maybe you should store it in the small of your back. I bet we can make a kind of belt with a support for it. Even better: that thing changes shape, right?"

"Yes… but reducing it to matchstick size and store in behind my ear like Sun Wukong would just make the problem worse… but you're right, it changes shape, not just size and I think I know how to store it near my body's center of mass."

She concentrated, visualizing the shape she wanted and sending the order to the Rod. Its shape started to melt as strands of black metal wove themselves around her waist. She sighed as she noticed that the Rod had once again taken liberties about the style. She had aimed for a rather innocuous belt and what she had ended with was a kind of a low-cut corset, all in tortured, black metal engravings and jade inlays. She pushed aside the fact the Rod seemed to take fashion advice from some dark fantasy artwork. For now, what mattered was that she had a way to carry it without hampering her movements too much.

"Far better," she said with a grin. "Thank you, Fangfang."

"It's nothing, you know," he replied, blushing slightly.

"I wouldn't say that. You saw me walk for only a few steps and determined there was a problem, then helped me to find a solution in two minutes. That's definitely not nothing. I'm glad we will study together, cousin."

"Eh… it's that door. I have to run. See you later!" babbled the kid as he almost ran away.

 _Note to self: be light-handed with compliments._

"Ojiisan, you wanted to see me?" asked Hermione as she opened the door.

The room behind it was once again a place where high-tech apparatuses neighbored more traditional magical tools. Her grandfather was currently working on a potion, but the mixture was sitting in a runes-inscribed glass chemical reactor whose impeller was computer-controlled to give the exact number of stirs needed at the right time. From the gauge she could see, the reaction was also made under high pressure.

"Yes, Mina-chan. I'm making a potion for your mother, to prepare her body for the unsealing."

"You have to take more precautions because she does not have a magical core?"

"To quote a Californian friend: kinda, sorta. Fuhai will teach you about the concepts of chi, meridians and chakras that we use in the East to explain how the 'magical core' works. In short, an ayashi's magical core is a kind of refinery. It takes the ambient chi and transforms it into youki – usable magic energy if you will – that is stored in his body. An ayashi's raw magical power will then depend on four factors. The first, can the core generate youki of its own, is a matter of species. Kishins and Yakshas can, wizards cannot, which is why you currently have so many problems keeping your magic stable. You are not used to this added function on your core. The three other factors are how much youki the core can store, how much it can discharge at one time to power a spell and how fast it can process chi to replenish his reserves. Training can influence these factors up to a point, as can certain rituals."

"I suppose those are considered dark magic. Otherwise they would be used in wizard hospitals to help squibs."

"Well, the most well-known is a nasty thing indeed. It consists in sacrificing an ayashi to consume his core and so strengthen one's own. There are however alchemical processes that will give some result, though far less dramatic ones and at the cost of years of treatment. Fuhai also managed to develop a method that doesn't require a sacrifice, though it's risky for the patient. However, no matter their actual nastiness, all methods to alter a magical core will be considered dark by the western wizards for ideological reasons. Can you have a guess at the reason?"

"Would those rituals work on a muggle?" she immediately asked.

"Yes, they would work on a human. Depending on the ritual used, the active core can even become a hereditary feature. I suppose you can see the implications."

"The sacrifice ritual plus that working on a mu… a human. I think I know where the pureblood myth that muggleborns stole their magic comes from. But they're forgetting that it would have needed an ayashi to perform the ritual… Are there theories about why muggleborns appear?"

"Japanese wizards being just as obsessed as their human countrymen with their ancestors, I can tell you that all muggleborns seem to descend from one or more squibs. Further than that… there are unfortunately no serious studies on the matter. I suspect environmental factors from being responsible of the activation but that's it. To get back on topic: what I am brewing is a derivative of the alchemical augmentation process. Our work is simpler because your mother is part Kishin and this is what we are aiming to awake."

"But isn't the intent to make here pure Fomorian?"

"Correct and the reason why the final ritual will not be held here. We will go to an ancient place of power of our people for the spring equinox and conduct it there. You will have a role in the ceremony, so your magic needs to be stable by then."

She nodded. This just gave her one more reason to work hard. She then looked at the things her grandfather had prepared and she understood what he needed from her when she saw the syringe.

"Blood?" she asked.

"Blood, both mine and yours."

She rolled up her sleeve and let her grandfather take the quantity he needed. She watched him as he put her blood in a smaller reactor where a reddish solution was being agitated. He then typed a few commands, entering numbers in a table on the lab's computer. From what little she understood in the display, he was programming operations that would normally be done manually. The complex system would add the needed ingredients at predetermined times.

 _I wonder what Snape would think of it…_

"That's the first potion I've seen done under high pressure," she said.

"The idea is not new, alchemists have been toying with it both in Europe and China for centuries, knowing it should speed up some reactions, but never got it to work in a significant way. The problem is that the accelerated reactions also become very sensitive."

"But computer monitoring allows for the necessary fine-tuning. Who came up with the idea?"

"A human-born wizard called Reto Zehnhausern. His father was a chemistry engineer working for one of the big pharma companies near Basel and he grew up knowing the techniques of both sides. He's currently in California where wizards are less stuck-up than in Europe and working for a company I am a major shareholder of."

Hermione made a mental note to read more on history of magic outside of Europe. She knew very little about magical America but she was pretty sure that there was no magical USA.

"How long until it is ready?"

"Six hours for the main brewing and two more to put it in capsule form tomorrow. As I have to go back to Japan soon, I count on you to make sure she takes the correct doses each day."

"Knowing Mum, she will have a pillbox with neatly labeled compartments ready in no time."

"I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

Desdemona thought once again about the woman sitting just opposite her as they both savored their tea. If you didn't look further than appearance, Huang Tiantian was a twenty-something woman with the body of a dancer, who usually wore her silky black long hair in a twin ox bun and favored form-fitting silk cheongsams. She would have been perfectly at home in a Shanghai club during the Roaring Twenties.

During the last few days, she had time to dig under that illusion. She now knew that Tiantian had been raised to become an assassin for her clan. While nowhere near the ludicrous levels of some superheroes, her physical strength and agility were beyond what any human could hope to achieve and she knew magical martial arts that allowed her to reinforce her strikes. She could also do the same with any weapon she held, even thrown ones. Desdemona had seen her throw one of those long Chinese hairpins through a wooden beam when Touhou Fuhai had decided to play the 'batty ancestor' the night before, during the New Year's meal.

"I think we have to talk about your training," said Tiantian.

"Are all yaojing trained to fight?"

"Not all of them, but we yaojing have a tendency to establish a very direct relationship between power and authority. As the heir of clan Mikogami, you will need to have the strength to defend your position, literally speaking."

"Duels?"

"Not only. You have to remember that some yaojing make wolves look like refined aristocrats. Your existence will upset several important people among Japan's clans. One of them putting a contract on your head is a possibility we cannot dismiss."

"And Ross… let me guess, kidnapping to be used as leverage against me or Hermione?"

"Yes. While him being human make things a little more complicated, there are ways. For example, we have several firearms instructors who can help him. In your case, we'll start slowly and accelerate after the equinox. Did you already decide something about where you will live?"

"We will try to stay in England… but moving to Hong Kong or Japan is something we have to think about."

"We could easily organize your move here. As I suppose you would like to continue with your dentist activity… well, one interesting solution could be diversify your customer base, provided you are willing to work on non-human-like anatomies. As for England…"

"Father has some friends there, like John Stockton and Eisheth Blackrose. They can probably help us."

* * *

Ross Granger scratched his head with the pencil he was holding. The day before, he had a discussion with his father-in-law. They talked about a variety of topics as they tried to get each other's measure. Among other things, he had discovered that they shared a fondness for the works of Terry Pratchett. All in all, Ross had managed to determine was that Mikogami seemed to have overall good intentions but wasn't above breaking a few people-shaped eggs to reach his goals, probably by nudging events in ways that wouldn't even let the poor sod guess that he was just a pawn of the Dark Lord nicknamed Mikogami the Strategist.

Ross' current predicament was that during that conversation with his father-in-law, he had told the Fomorian about having been that pimply, bespectacled boy who read a lot of books and was picked upon by the school's cool kids. It had come in the conversation when Ross mentioned that he thought that his interest for fantasy had helped him to cope with Hermione's magic as well as with the most recent events. A little bit later in their discussion, he had told him about having taken Latin and Greek and still being able to read the former.

As he woke up this morning, he had found a book waiting for him in a Kraft envelope, stuck on his door by a kind of spell that ended when he opened the envelope. Thankfully, said book was composed of scanned pages printed and spiral-bound like a big report. Ross wouldn't have dared to take the original outside of a controlled environment. The note Mikogami attached regarding the book's origins made it clear that institutions like the British Museum would pay a fortune to acquire it. The book was a first century codex written by Suetonius that historians knew nothing about. So he had settled in the Huangs' library after breakfast, taking a few thesauruses to help him along.

In _De Veneficas,_ the Roman historian had written down facts about magic in the Roman Empire he collected after an encounter with a Greek wizard exposed him rather brutally to that aspect of the world. It seemed that the historian owed a life debt to someone called Herpo of Alexandria, who he described as an ancient and wise master of the magical arts.

He was only starting to decipher the ancient tome, first skimming through the chapters to get a feel for their content. He already had an idea of why Mikogami had given him that text. Current wizard history books were fraught with revisionism, something Hermione was pretty annoyed with as it meant she had to learn that books could not always be trusted. This older version would probably have its own faults but it would have the advantage of shedding a different light on the matter.

This was something he had been looking for since he first laid his eyes on Hermione's schoolbooks and understood that wizarding booksellers would frown on him buying copies for his own library. He had understood the cause of course, a mix of the contempt many wizards had for muggles and the rules of the Statute of Secrecy. According to Mikogami, muggles actively trying to understand the magical world would soon be under Ministry scrutiny and obliviated if some bureaucrat felt they became too curious. The fact they may be the parents of a wizard child did not matter. All the pureblood would see was a muggle forgetting his place. Racist undertones notwithstanding, Ross hated being benched and this was a factor in why he had decided to convince his wife and daughter to move their family home to Asia. He just needed to take things a little slowly on that matter.

The Asian yaojing or ayashi, to use either the Chinese or the Japanese words for magical people, also had their problems but Ross had an advantage with them: Confucius and the influence he had on family values in Asia. While many among the yaojing did not like humans, elements of the classical Chinese culture had transferred to almost all of them. Confucius' take on filial piety was definitely one of those, particularly given the clan-based society of the yaojing. As Hermione's father, his opinion had to be considered for matters concerning his daughter. The fact he was human was irrelevant. To the yaojing, his desire to learn about the magical world to better raise his daughter was therefore not only understandable but the responsible thing to do.

 _Interesting. The style changes here… yes, he's citing something Herpo told him, probably translating it from Greek as well. Let's see what it says._

He started to translate in his head, frowned, and jotted down notes, digging in the thesauruses to refine his translation.

 _Many wizards claim they do not know their origins. It is however clear to whoever wants to see that wizards share one thing with the demigods the poets tell us about: our ancestry is not fully human. I, for one, have the blood of a drakaina running through my veins and, as I aged, my serpentine traits became more pronounced. While I accompanied Alexander as Ptolemais' adviser, I saw many proofs of this east of Babylon._

 _In the Paurava kingdom, a Brahman showed me texts that spoke of ancient times that we Greeks would maybe consider to be the time of Cronus' reign. It spoke of races whose magic would be considered the power of gods by the lesser men of our age, of flying cities that could rain fire to lay waste to whole countries, of the mighty dragons ridden like mere horses. It spoke of hecatombs where humans were the cattle sacrificed to dark gods by the king of the terrible Rakshasas, the mighty Ravana. Of more interest to my research about our origins, it spoke of how this Rhakshasa king granted his favorite human concubine the gift of magic, sacrificing captured enemies to empower his beloved slave. In truth, I learned much about my art from the texts of this ancient people._

"Okay…" said Ross, rubbing his eyes.

"Dad?" asked Hermione as she entered the library.

"I'm here, Hermione."

"Interesting read?"

"Well, it's not the Necronomicon but it sure is not an easy read. You remember how your grandfather smiled after asking me which languages I could read and I replied I could manage with classical Latin?"

"You mean like that," replied Hermione, slipping into her 'evil overlord' smirk.

"By Jove! It's hereditary!"

"By Jove? Dad, you're sure this book is not dangerous to read?"

"My dear daughter, I have been reading Latin all morning. I therefore reserve myself the right to call on Jupiter's name," he replied with a smile.

"Fair enough," replied the girl, approaching the table he was sitting at to look at the text. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually… did you already hear about a Greek wizard called Herpo of Alexandria?"

"Maybe. The name Herpo the Foul was mentioned when I did research on Parseltongue. He was a Greek wizard mentioned as the first with that ability… and a dark wizard who invented a lot of curses."

 _Why am I not surprised,_ thought Ross…

"Interesting belt," he said, noticing the item around her waist. "The Rod's latest shape?"

"Yes. I have problem with the item's inertia and this shape makes it easier to move normally."

"Could you try to change it in a bastard sword?" he asked after a short look at his translated text.

"Sure."

The Rod flew from her waist, recomposing in a long, dark blade almost as tall as her. She took an instant to appreciate its weight and balance.

"Could you try to add glowing runes on the blade and a guard looking like two claws?"

"Dad, that's not Stormbringer!" she replied, recognizing what he described as the blade held by one of her Dad's favorite fantasy novel heroes.

 _And thank God for that,_ he thought, knowing the Black Sword's terrible powers in Elric's Saga.

"Sorry. What I just read about the ancient Rakshasas…"

"Merlin… as bad as Melniboné?" she asked, remembering some of the things he told her to explain why she would have to wait a little bit to read those books.

He hesitated for a second. His little girl was only thirteen… but with what she already lived and the way things were going, he would better protect her by giving her accurate information than by sugarcoating things.

"If what Herpo told Suetonius is the truth and I interpreted it correctly, yes. I just read a thing about sacrificing people to give someone magic," he replied frankly.

"Ojiisan mentioned it too when we were talking about magical cores a little earlier. But he also said there are other, less evil methods. Dad…"

"I promise you to think about it, Hermione, but I think it's better if I stay human, at least for now. Your Mum is going to need something that's stable in her life with this storm we're going through."

* * *

Harry had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room for a while, looking by the window and thinking about the classes that would resume tomorrow… without Hermione. From the letter he had read a short while ago, she would be stuck in Asia for a while.

"There is a letter from Hermione," said Harry as he watched Ron enter the Gryffindor Common Room.

He handed him the letter and started to look again by the window, toward the eastern horizon, in the direction of Asia.

 _Dear Harry and Ron,_

 _I hope things are fine for you in Hogwarts, with the new term starting on Monday. Around here… well, sifu is not exactly a patient teacher and he started with his lessons on the afternoon of the first of January, arguing that the real New Year was in one month, when the Chinese calendar changes year. Classes with him are something different, in good part because it's only my cousin Fangfang (if you wonder about his name, it's Chinese. He's one year younger than me) and I being his students. Sifu can tailor things to what we know and how fast we learn._

 _I have a lot of other assignments being planned, too. I need to get started on learning Chinese and Japanese, Fangfang's Mum has decided I need at least some basics in martial arts and my grandfather gave me books to read about politics and strategy. Right now, I have started to read a book called the Book of the Five Rings, by a Japanese samurai (they're Japanese warriors, a little like knights) called Musashi Miyamoto and answer a lot of questions my grandfather prepared. This is going to be very interesting though I will definitely be busy during the next few weeks._

 _It's a pity Malfoy didn't know anything but it would probably have been too easy. I discussed the matter with Sifu and my relatives, trying to remember everything I knew and we came with a few conclusions and ideas._

 _First, two facts that we didn't put together: right before Mrs. Norris was petrified, Harry heard voices that neither Ron nor I could hear. In fact, I think we heard them but we just thought them to be random noise. From what you told us, Harry, you don't necessary realize when you are talking or hearing Parseltongue. This leads to a conclusion: we have a snake lurking in Hogwarts._

 _Second, Dobby: grandfather explained a lot of things about House Elves and… I need to do more research before saying more. What's important for now is that he told us that the Chamber has already been opened. Thanks to Malfoy, we know it was around 1943. Unfortunately, with the war, there are chances that a few students died in the bombings but the wizard population is too small to be many of them. The library has yearbooks. Check them. Find the holes. Find who died._

 _Third, witnesses: Dumbledore and Binns are the only teachers that were already here in 43 but they are not the oldest minds in Hogwarts. Think about it, the portraits and the ghosts have been in Hogwarts for decades, if not centuries. In fact, some of them may even have been here at the time of the Founders. See what you can do._

 _That's all for now. I will continue to gather information from my side. Please, take care and… stay alive._

 _Hermione_

"What kind of family does she have there?" asked Ron as he finished the letter. "You heard her, they're piling assignments on her and… politics? She's aiming for the Wizengamot?"

Harry bit back a comment. Shortly after the first letter, he had asked Flitwick about Touhou Fuhai, thinking that the half-goblin wizard was the least likely to have prejudice toward Asia. When the Ravenclaw House Head heard that Hermione would be taught by that man, Flitwick had replied: "Your friend is a lucky witch to be tutored by such a master, Harry. But you also have to be ready to find her changed by what he will teach her. Touhou Fuhai was born in a time where the world was less safe than it is today."

 _And now… martial arts, strategy and samurais. They're teaching her to fight._

"You know her, she's not happy if she doesn't have something to study," he finally replied. "She raises good points, though. Take Peeves for example… how long has he been there, playing tricks to everybody?"

"Right but… maybe there is someone easier to ask to?"

"We can start with the portraits."


	6. Finch and Blackrose

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. Your opinions are always welcome._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

Hermione was hugging her Dad. The start of the Hogwarts term the next day was also the day her Dad had to resume working at the practice. They had managed to get a replacement for her Mum, but there was no way they could be both away for several months.

"It's all right, little tigress. I'll be back in March," said Ross while hugging buck his daughter. "Also…"

"It was different then, Dad," she replied, knowing he was about to say that she hadn't pouted like that when she left for Hogwarts.

No matter how bizarre her family situation now was, there was one thing she actually glad about. The bridge between her and her parents, the one that had been getting more and more derelict with each day she spent in the wizarding world, hearing again and again that muggles could not understand her, had been reconstructed. Reconstructed and not repaired because, in Hermione's mind, the simple, innocent bridge of her human childhood had been replaced by a twisted thing designed by someone with sensibilities similar to the ones of H.R. Giger. Also, her Mum had now started to cross that bridge, one pill at a time.

 _But just because it's not the same doesn't mean we cannot be a family,_ she thought _._

She let him go so he could hug her Mum, too. Even with them getting all emotional, she needed to go back to the privacy of the limo soon. Baseball caps were a way for her to quickly hide her most visible inhuman traits, but they were also far from comfortable, with the way they pressed against her third eye. If she wanted to be able to exit the mansion on a regular basis, she really needed to master the human shape technique.

From the explanations Touhou Fuhai had given her, said technique would be considered by a western wizard as a non-human becoming a 'human Animagus'. Animagi were wizards who mastered a way to take a unique animal shape, just like Professor McGonagall in Hogwarts could transform into a cat. For a wizard, correctly mastering that technique necessitated both training and a lengthy ritual including things like holding a mandrake leaf in one's mouth for a month. Of course, it could backfire if done wrong, sometimes with lethal consequences. Also, which animal shape would be gained was not a matter of choice but rather dictated by factors like the wizard's personality and ancestry.

Her sifu had continued with saying that while some ayashi species had their own innate transformational techniques, most of the ayashi used to resort to illusion spells that were often tricky to maintain. Things changed near the end of the fifteenth century. A flow of ayashi refugees from Europe arrived in China through the Silk Road. They were fleeing the fall of the kingdom they had tried to build, one where humans and ayashi could live together in harmony. Hermione had not been surprised to hear that a vampire child called Akasha was one of those refugees and she wondered how much the fall of Magical Wallachia played a role in the establishment of the Statute of Secrecy.

In Japan, hearing the horror stories of the pogrom the European ayashi escaped, the tanuki sorcerer Seizaemon reverse engineered the Animagus technique, mixed it with its own species' shapechanging arts and streamlined the result to obtain something simple and safe enough for children to learn. The technique didn't need any particular magical affinity but it was limited in scope. Just like the Animagus one, it allowed an ayashi to take a unique human shape that could even be maintained through sleep. It needed a little mental discipline, though. 'Monstrous' thoughts, letting one's inhuman instincts run wild, could make the disguise slip or even break.

"Take care, and Lingling…" started Ross.

"Do not worry, cousin, I'll protect them with my life," replied the undead with an impish grin.

"Good one," replied Ross who had spent most of his conversations with her trading puns of a debatable taste.

The three females watched him go through the airport's checkpoint and then left, shadowed by several Huang security agents. Hermione and Desdemona both had to go back to their respective training.

* * *

Ross Granger looked at the building in front of him. It was at the same time inconspicuous and surprising. Inconspicuous because the offices of Finch and Blackrose were occupying the same kind of office building as many other business law firms in the City. Surprising because from his experience, European wizards just didn't do the whole 'blending with the crowd' thing. It would have required them to understand muggle usages they did not care about.

 _But if Des' hunch about Eisheth Blackrose not being a wizard is right… John Stockton showed quite clearly that British vampires care about the human world… though the whole 'predator, know thy hunting grounds' thing may be part of it._

He had decided to come here during the flight back, phoned them on Monday and gotten an appointment for the next Wednesday. It seemed he was on the VIP list for that particular law firm, probably because he was Mikogami's son-in-law. He entered the lobby, mingling through the crowd of people in suits and looked for the elevator. The board next to it showed that the law firm was situated on the tenth floor out of thirteen and used all of it. He also noted that the three floors above didn't mention any company using them.

 _Maybe a residential area… I think I saw a terrace with plants on the top floor._

The doors of the elevator opened on the tenth floor. The company's reception area again looked perfectly in sync with what this place was supposed to be for most people in the neighborhood: an international business law firm guaranteeing discretion to its rich customers.

 _Good thing I thought about putting on my good suit when I saw the address…_

The girl behind the reception desk was young and quite pretty. However, something was slightly off. Without his recent adventures, he wouldn't have noticed it, chalking it down to her being an intern not yet used to the job. The thing was that he had the feeling that the girl was feeling underdressed in her skirt suit, as if showing… he knew. She was used to wearing something less form-fitting and covering her legs more. She was used to wearing robes.

"Good afternoon, Miss. My name is Ross Granger and I have an appointment with Ms. Blackrose," he said, hoping none of what he had just noticed came through his tone.

"Good afternoon, Sir. One moment, please."

He noticed the young girl's slight hesitation as she typed, probably verifying her boss's agenda on the computer. She was definitely not used to it, which gave more credence to his theory: the girl was a witch raised in the wizarding world. How she ended here was a question he would be delighted to know the answer to.

"Ms. Blackrose will see you at once, Sir," she said, taking a wand from under her desk. " _Dux Spectris Lumos!"_

The spell looked like the basic light one he had seen his daughter sometimes cast. The difference was that it didn't stick on the top of the girl's wand but hovered, waiting for him to follow it in the nearby hall.

"Please follow the light, Sir, it will lead you to Ms. Blackrose's office," she continued with a smile.

"Thank you, Miss…"

"Selwyn, Sir, Amalthea Selwyn. Have a nice day!"

"You, too."

As he left, he saw the book she had been reading while staffing the desk. Its yellow cover was quite noticeable, marking it as one of the 'for Dummies' books. From the few characters of the title he could see, he guessed that it was 'Internet for Dummies' and he also saw that she had a dictionary on hand.

 _How hard could it be for a girl like her to fit in modern English society? She could be a refugee from some third-world country for all the difference it would make…_

He passed a few offices, noticing that no one was surprised by the ball of light hovering in front of him… and he realized why. The ball was luminous but at the same time casting no light.

 _This explains the 'spectris' in the incantation. This 'spectral guide light' is a kind of augmented reality effect rather than a physical phenomenon._

The ball stopped near a door. He noticed that the bell had little lights to show if the person inside was available and that it had just shifted from red to green as he approached. As he was about to knock, the door opened silently and he let himself inside. Eisheth Blackrose was closing a dossier as he entered, sitting on a kneeling chair he could see under the glass desk. The whole office had a 'my time is very expensive' kind of vibe, given by small touches like the degrees hanged behind the desk, both in law and economy.

This was not what was fascinating him, though. He had known that Eisheth Blackrose was not human but seeing her true shape was something else. He understood why she had opted for a backless chair. A fine purple tail ending with a little spade was swaying gently under the desk. The woman… or she-devil also had bat-like wings and pointed ears.

"Good afternoon, Mister Granger," said Eisheth, rising to come greet him.

He could not help but notice how she moved. It had been controlled back at the airport but here, in her natural shape, Eisheth Blackrose's walk was just made to have any heterosexual man start thinking with his other brain. Thankfully, the souvenir of a dream he made during the flight back easily banished temptation. Its center piece had been the image of his wife, then a full Fomorian like Hermione, in a bikini armor right out of a Frank Frazetta drawing and yelling 'Blood and souls for my Lord Arioch!' as she charged into battle with a two-handed axe.

"Good afternoon Ms. Blackrose, but please, call me Ross," he said, silently thanking the Lords of Chaos for giving him enough incentive to 'keep a stiff upper lip'.

"Good control, Mister Granger, it will make things easier," she replied, her posture subtly changing, dulling her supernatural allure. "Now, to get a few things out of the way, the word you are probably looking for is succubus. To answer the next questions, I have no more clue than you do about heaven and hell and I put 'Jedi' under religion on the 2001 census form, even if, technically, I would rather be a Sith. As you can guess, my species is all about passion. Speaking of passion, I loved Al Pacino's performance in the movie you are likely thinking about at the idea of a succubus lawyer. Now, what can I do for you?" she said, inviting him to sit on the chair in front of the desk as she went back her own seat.

"There are several points that need to be handled. First, I suppose there will be paperwork with the Ministry of Magic to update… my wife's blood status," he replied, sitting down.

"I suppose reading about magical guardians prompted your decision. First let's establish a simple rule. To make clear decisions, you need information about magical culture. Feel free to ask any question. I won't be offended and I will simply tell you if something is off-limits."

"I understand. How will it work for my wife?"

"Updating her status is easy enough to do, though not without problems. First, let's cover some basics about how the Ministry classifies things. Once her change is official, your wife will be considered a magical 'Being', which is per wizarding law 'any creature that has sufficient intelligence to understand the laws of the magical community and to bear part of the responsibility in shaping those laws'. You may note that there are some objections about this definition. For example, the British Centaurs and Merpeople refused to be classified as Beings, but that's mostly because they don't want to be lumped together with us 'Dark Creatures'."

"I suppose you don't call yourselves that?"

"This is what the wizards call us and they have obstructed any attempt at names of our choosing obtaining official Ministry recognition. Us thinking of ourselves as a group is not something the Ministry likes to think about. We do not use Asian terms like ayashi or yaojing either as they count the wizards in, which is not the goal. The one we do use was given to us by a human, actually. The Bard wrote a _Midsummer Night's Dream_ based on stories told to him by people of our community."

"Fairies, then."

"We prefer Fae, as it has less of that 'Tinkerbell' vibe for modern ears. We do not abide by the traditional Seelie and Unseelie split, however… To get back to legal matters, your wife will have more rights as a Fomorian than as a human but those will also be different from the ones of a wizard's. Wizarding laws do not list her species specifically but make a distinction between magical 'humans' and us. The situation is comparable to the laws regarding First Nations Tribes on the other side of the pond. Our Bureau of Indian Affairs is called the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"And when the wizards realize she is an Ancient One?" he asked back, remembering what Mikogami had told him about the wizarding stories regarding his people. "I suppose it will be bad."

"Now that's a good question. It will all depend on the degree of denial some people in power will exert. I expect our dear Minister Cornelius Fudge to surpass himself in this matter. Most people in the Ministry will feel far more comfortable if they ignore your family, and they will if you don't make waves. Admitting that there are real Fomorians, admitting that those stories might be true means admitting that the wizards were once the slaves of magically superior beings. A few people interested in forbidden arts making that conclusion is fine. Who will listen to them, anyway? Public acknowledgment now could severely weaken the foundations of wizarding society."

"How high are the risks that the Ministry tries to remove the problem permanently?"

"Currently, not that much. Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is a strict by-the-book policewoman. Suggest that kind of plan to her and she will have her wand out faster than you can say 'for the Greater Good'. Ironically, you don't have much to fear from Voldemort sympathizers in the government. Their Dark Lord's indoctrination made them very receptive to the idea of bowing to superior beings. Even if Voldemort was to come back… show enough strength and their camp will split between the loyalists and those who hope to gain more from serving your family. No, the really problematic ones are those who believe that the current order must be maintained at any cost. Dolores Umbridge, the head of the Improper Use of Magic Office, is a name you want to remember. She hates us Fae even more than she hates humans and I often had to defend members of the community from barely legal charges coming from her."

"And Dumbledore? My father-in-law painted a rather unflattering portrait of him."

"Dumbledore… now this is a complex matter. We all see things through the lenses of our own values and with a man like Albus Dumbledore, this can lead to confusing conclusions. Mikogami-sama is a genius strategist and a politician who could give lessons to Bismarck in how to juggle ten secret treaties flawlessly before breakfast. In his long life, he has taken part in several wars and seen the worst humanity and ayashi were capable of. While I recommend you to never ask him about it, he was in Nagasaki when the bomb fell, the only one spared from the radiations thanks to his nature, while everybody around him died. He managed to stay a good person, founding Yokai Academy on the idea of coexistence… but he has little faith left for the people in power that he does not know personally."

Ross stared vacantly before him, taken by the force of the vision of Tenmei Mikogami standing in the ruins of a nuked city, thinking that despite all his powers, he could do nothing for them. He thanked the succubus when she went to the bar next to her desk and poured some single malt in a glass for him.

"Personally, I think that Dumbledore is a man who would have liked to stay a simple teacher but became a victim of history," continued Eisheth. "Hailed as a hero for his involvement in the magical side of World War Two, he never found a way to get off the pedestal the European wizards put him on after that. The issue is that this led him to think that he had no real peer among wizards anymore. So, when Voldemort happened, he just had to make up for the Ministry's lack of results. So, is he an evil man? No, not in my opinion. He tried to do good but made mistakes, in no small part because the common wizard expected too much of him. Like Mikogami-sama, the horrors he saw during the war shaped him, though in his case it has taken the form of an obsession with limiting casualties and offering second chances."

"Would he sacrifice the few to save the many?"

"If he doesn't see any other solution… something complicated by the 'lack of peer' aspect that makes it unlikely he will discuss his plans with someone else… yes, I think he will."

"One last question on this topic: how much danger can we expect from the Malfoys? I suppose you have information on all the movers and shakers in the Wizengamot."

"Indeed. Officially, Lucius Malfoy is independently wealthy and spends most of his time acting as a lobbyist, pushing the Blood Purist agenda in the Wizengamot and with Ministry officials. The intelligence I gathered lets me think he was Voldemort's number two. He was however smart and influential enough to be acquitted during the 1991 trials, using mind control as a defense. How he got away with it is another matter, possibly because of bribes and Dumbledore's obsession with casualties. My profiler does not think he is a full sociopath but that he built a value system where anything else than a pureblood wizard is sub-human."

Ross bit back a comment about the war and how some people during that conflict thought others were sub-humans. Why wizards who fought in that war failed to see the parallels eluded him. However, he was too ignorant of how the magical side of that conflict played out. He would ask her for sources on the matter, later.

"And the son? My daughter's description makes him look like the worst kind of spoiled brat."

"My information on him is still sketchy but I expect to have more soon, as Mikogami-sama requested that I create a threat board for your daughter. Spoiled brat seems to fit the perception most people have of him. Used to have everything brought to him on a silver platter, thinking he is superior just because of his birth and family's wealth… yet, something doesn't fit. Even if they are bigots, his parents are both shrewd political animals and Draco's godfather is Severus Snape. Snape's reputation as a lousy teacher is not undeserved. Amy – my receptionist – told me some horror stories about her Potion classes. However, what I also got from these stories is that he is an excellent researcher, probably a genius in his field, and that he would be far happier in a lab than teaching. Regarding Draco, I cannot see that man tolerating immature pranks from someone he is supposed to keep an eye on unless there was a good reason."

* * *

"Today, I will start training the two of you properly."

Desdemona and Hermione tried their best not to wince as they stood in the mansion's backyard, knowing that Tiantian had absolutely no patience for displays of weakness. Every morning since the second of January, mother and daughter had gone through grueling workout sessions that had been adjusted to their actual capabilities as they progressed. Now, a week later, the two Grangers had been pushed further than they had thought possible and realized how out of shape they both were.

"Until now," continued Tiantian, "we worked on overall fitness only. There is still a lot of progress to make there but we will now make things more interesting by adding actual training in the art to the mix. However, I need to hammer a point first and this is why Lingling and I prepared a little demonstration."

Tiantian smacked the side of the vehicle near her. It was an old car. While still in good shape, it had not come here on its own power but deposited by a truck given the tracks they could see. With the way Tiantian had smacked on it, they guessed that it was still an old steel chassis.

"To make things even clearer, I will add a little something to it," said Tiantian while taking out an ofuda.

She stuck the strip of paper on the car while making a quick hand sign. A faint glow appeared on the vehicle.

"Hermione, do you know the _Protego_ spell?"

"Yes, though I haven't cast it yet. It's a basic shield spell. Used correctly, it can block various spells and physical attacks."

"Good. The ward I just set has a similar strength. Lingling, demonstrate to our cousins the Hougetsu Jigen-Tou."

"Yes, mother," replied the undead as she approached the car.

Lingling raised her right arm above her head and then slashed forward, bringing the edge of her hand down on the car's roof. The shield charm laid on the car immediately shattered. Hermione could not help but think that the charm being more powerful would not have helped at all, that the attack had exploited a fault of the spell's structure. Half a second later, they heard a deep noise as the front and back half of the cars separated. The attack had gone through the metal, leather and plastic like a hot knife through butter.

"Hougetsu Jigen-Tou translates as 'Moon Crushing Dimensional Sword' and is one of Touhou Fuhai's signature techniques," said Lingling. "I am afraid that my mastery of it is far from complete. Great-Grandfather could have cut the car at range."

"Thank you, Lingling. I asked my daughter to use this technique because of its dramatic nature. My own arts favor precision on weak points to neutralize my target. Both techniques though share the same intent: they are made for real combat. Human martial arts may have become sports and spiritual ways but the wushu I will teach you is aimed at keeping you alive on the battlefield and destroying your enemies. Any questions?" asked Tiantian.

"So what we will learn will be more like SAS unarmed combat training than what we would learn at a… civilian dojo?" asked Desdemona.

"Correct, except for the unarmed part. We will also cover proper weapon usage. Lingling will take care of firearms while I will concentrate on finding a close-range weapon suiting you… Hermione, for you it means staff fighting training. Can you tell me why?"

"Because I can use it both as a magical focus and as a weapon."

"In your case, there is an added benefit. In staff shape, the Rod will have its real weight. A twenty kilogram, near indestructible staff will be a very interesting weapon, particularly once we have trained your strength beyond human level. Desdemona?"

"Actually, this one is for both Hermione and you and more a matter of general curiosity. How do wizards fight?"

"From Lockhart's dueling club attempt… I would say it's a little like firearms dueling. It's a matter of speed and precision, but you have to add that you can vary the spells you throw at your opponent and have defenses spells like the _Protego_ ," replied Hermione, looking again at the severed car.

"It wasn't always like that," added Tiantian. "In the past, there were warriors blending magic and weapons among European wizards as well."

"Godric Gryffindor is usually drawn with a sword," replied Hermione. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was one of them."

"There are probably many surprises waiting to be discovered in your school's history," said Lingling. "Maybe the oldest ghosts could tell you how it was in their time."

* * *

"I think we have everything we need so far," said Eisheth as she closed the dossier and got up to file it in a metal cabinet.

Ross Granger nodded as he rubbed his eyes. They had done a lot of groundwork during the afternoon and he now had a correct idea of the various things he would need to do to ensure his family's security in England. He was also starting to have a better idea of how the various British Fae clans functioned and of the efforts of people like Stockton and Blackrose to form a parallel government independent from Wizarding Britain.

"I am sorry I kept you so late," said Ross as he looked through the window at the setting sun.

"First, the Mikogami clan has me on retainer for all their operations in Europe, so it's my job. Second, you're a lot more sympathetic than my average human customer. This leads me to a proposal: why don't you stay for dinner? Nothing fancy, it will just be me, my daughter, probably a friend of hers and some mean curry. Think of it as an informal 'welcome to the community' thing."

Ross took a second to consider the situation. While they didn't live that far from London, it would still be a two hour drive, maybe more depending on how the traffic out of London would be at this time of the day. Sure, he could stop somewhere on the way to grab a bite but…

 _But I don't have any procedure before ten AM tomorrow. Better to accept her offer, then drive back or maybe find some hotel room and drive back tomorrow morning. Plus, I'm sure the conversation will be interesting._

"Thank you, I will be happy to meet your family."

They soon left the office, Eisheth morphing back into her human shape. The solicitor exchanged a few words with the receptionist who was busy packing as well, reminding her to activate the wards before closing.

"How did she end up here, if that's not private?" he asked as the elevator's doors closed and Eisheth passed a security card through the reader before hitting the button for the thirteenth floor. "I got the feeling that she was raised in the wizarding world."

"You could find out by asking around in the Leaky Cauldron… well, if those people deigned to talk to a muggle. Amy is what some wizards would call a 'blood traitor'. Her family threw her out because she fell in love with a nice muggle. He's working at the British Museum Library and… well, Amy is a Ravenclaw."

"Lots of discussions about books, I suppose."

"Yes, they are so adorkable…"

The elevator's doors opened, revealing a landing with two doors, one with a bell marked Finch and the other Blackrose.

"Are the Finch Fae, too?"

"Yes, they are abroad, though. Their child is still young enough that they don't have to bother about school… not like my delinquent daughter," she said as she opened the door to her flat. "Yep, Arya is definitely here."

Ross was wondering how she could tell as he left his suit jacket near the entrance. He wouldn't need it thanks both to the informal nature of the event and the way the flat was heated. He personally preferred to dress more and heat less but he could understand that a succubus family would like to stay in its natural shape, which meant that covering clothing could be a problem.

 _Unless they are naturally more resistant than humans to that kind of problem…_

"Lilith, Arya, I'm home!" said Eisheth. "I brought a human friend for dinner!"

Ross nodded, understanding that her indication of his species was a way to tell her daughter he was in the know and she didn't have to scramble to hide things.

"We're in the living room, Mum!" came back a voice.

He followed his hostess and suddenly the heat made a lot more sense. First, there was a fire burning in the fireplace. Second, there was the question of the two maybe fifteen years old girls sitting on the rug around the coffee table in front of said fireplace and going through what was probably homework.

Of course, some details made that scene quite out of the ordinary. Lilith was in her full succubus shape and had limited her clothing to a tank top and a pair of low-cut jeans, probably so that it did not go into the way of her wings and tail. Ross did his best not to look below her neck, particularly as the girl was just as beautiful as her mother.

The other girl, the one Eisheth had called Arya, was even less human-looking and her presence gave another possible explanation for the heat. She was more modestly clothed than Lilith and would have looked like a typical middle-class London girl from some immigrant Indian family who worked hard at integrating into English society… at least until you looked below her waist. Arya didn't have any legs but a maybe three meter long snake tail with shiny dark scales, which immediately reminded him of a famous creature of Indian legends: the Naga.

"Girls, this is Ross Granger. He's part of the community through his wife."

"Good evening," chorused the two girls.

"Good evening," replied Ross. "I hope I am not imposing."

"No problem. Arya and I cooked enough for the four of us."

"Lilith really enjoys cooking… particularly if Arya is here to help her," said Eisheth with a smile.

"Mum!" replied Lilith, blushing, which led the Naga to swat her friend playfully on the arm.

"Can you two set the dishes while I entertain our guest?" said Eisheth.

"Sure, Ms. Blackrose," said Arya, rising on her coils and slithering toward the kitchen.

He noticed how the succubus girl looked at her friend as she followed her. There was something there.

"Yes, they are together," said Eisheth, cutting through his thoughts.

"I realize we never talked about Incubi."

"Because they do not exist… our lore says that some women from Canaan preferred to pretend that the demon seducing them was male rather than admitting they lay with a succubus, which started the myth. Speaking of myth, I suppose a little story will be useful for you to understand some things about our biology. Back in the time of the Ancient Kingdoms, a Lunar Spirit fell in love with a Fomorian Prince. Alas, she could not touch him for she did not have a body. The best she could do was to use the tricks she knew to project illusions to please her lover. But the prince was a Fomorian and he would not let the laws of nature get in the way of his desire. He crafted for her a body out of the blood of a hundred virgins and the rays of the Moon, a woman of supreme beauty she could bind her essence to. The hybrid being that was born that night was Naamah, the first succubus.

"It is said that it is because of this dual origin that we reproduce as we do. While our flesh was made to enjoy the carnal pleasures, they cannot bring us daughters. For this, we need to return to our spiritual roots and have our soul touch the soul of our mate, by entering his or her dreams… so, to get less lyrical, we reproduce through a kind of parthenogenesis induced through our psychic abilities, hence the female only species and the reason why compatible personalities have a lot more importance to us than gender or species."

He pondered her words as he followed Eisheth to the dining room. The succubus origins myth shared common traits with what Herpo told Suetonius about the Fomorians. The concept of 'things man was not meant to know or use' was alien to them. Destroying 'lesser' beings in the pursuit of their desires was perfectly acceptable for them. It was true that humans could be like that, too, but this seemed to be something all Fomorians had. He really hoped that it was a cultural trait of the Ancient Fomorian Kingdom and not an inherent one. His wife and daughter's sanity hung on that hope.

* * *

Hermione was going through her latest essay on charms. It seemed terribly short to her but she was not about to make the same mistake as with the first essay she had given back to her uncle Fuhai. The old master had read it and then told her that two-thirds of it was non-essential and that she had one day to redo it.

 _Do nothing that is of no use._

The words of Musashi's _Book of Five Rings_ rolled in her mind. It was the same. Her grandfather, ever the shrewd politician, had given her a very carefully worded questionnaire, knowing that it would push her to analyze the book of the famous swordsman in a certain way.

 _The primary thing when you take a sword in your hands is your intention to cut the enemy, whatever the means. Whenever you parry, hit, spring, strike or touch the enemy's cutting sword, you must cut the enemy in the same movement. It is essential to attain this. If you think only of hitting, springing, striking or touching the enemy, you will not be able actually to cut him._

Those quotes were among those that had marked her the most during that study, forcing her to think about the way she worked and how to interpret her uncle's reaction. The conclusion she had reached was that just regurgitating memorized text was a waste of neurons. Musashi's quotes were not only about swordfighting but applied to any enterprise: Never lose sight of your objective. Cut down the dead weight.

For her magical studies, it meant a huge change of perspective. Her question was not 'what can I learn today?' anymore. It was now 'how can I use what I learnt today to fulfill my objective?' It felt right to her. So many things had become so much easier since she had admitted this truth: knowledge in itself wasn't power. Power lay in the efficient use of knowledge, just like her grandfather and uncle had done.

 _If you do not control the enemy, the enemy will control you,_ she thought, once again quoting the master swordsman.

She put the final touches to her Charms essay and printed it. Another change. Her uncle preferred computer printed reports, saying that it was easier to extract the essential when you could easily edit the text. She was pouring herself a cup of tea, using a wandless warming charm she had practiced on the kettle when she noticed the incoming mail icon popping up on her screen. She quickly opened her inbox and smiled.

"At last!" she said as she opened the email coming from the Glasgow office the Sanbao Trading Company and sent the attached scanned pages to the printer.

She had been waiting for news from Hogwarts for almost three weeks. Given how busy she had been… and how busy the boys probably had been as well, she had decided to give them some time, knowing that she could learn through other channels if something dreadful happened in Hogwarts. She took the first page, recognizing Harry's handwriting.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _How are things going for you in Hong Kong? I hope that the effects of what happened in Christmas are fully gone. I'm afraid that the whole school knows about you being there, though. Parvati and Lavender became very nosy after your school trunk was sent to you and… well, Ron blurted it all out. He's very sorry about it. After that… you know how it is: if you want everybody to know about it in record time, tell Lavender._

 _This leads me to something very funny… no, I wouldn't call it funny, it was actually strange, maybe even a little barmy. Draco has asked about you, about what you were doing there. As he was hinting that you were not good enough for Hogwarts… I told him the name of your sifu. I have never seen him so pale and I'm counting that time in the Forbidden Forest last year. After that, he just stopped. By stopping I mean he hasn't said anything bad about you in two weeks. It's really starting to worry me._

 _About the Heir, no new petrified bodies for now. We have tried to search for the things you asked us but it's not easy._

 _Dealing with the portraits has been a dead-end. I asked a few questions to Flitwick after we had some conversations going nowhere. Flitwick told me that the castle portraits are not a true copy of the person represented. They have something of their personality, but they will be as the painter thought the person was, not as the person really was (I hope that makes sense). Flitwick also said that the enchantment on them only had limited power and that they could not store that many memories. After a while, they just replace the old with the new. The portraits of the past headmasters Dumbledore has in his office are an exception, probably using a more powerful charm. It's possible some family portraits in the old pureblood homes are like that too._

 _We're still looking at the yearbooks in the library. Neville is helping with that but we have to keep things quiet if we don't want to tip the Heir. I'll write once we have something._

 _That leaves us with the ghosts and I would almost say that we had the same luck as with the portraits if we hadn't met a helpful ghost near the dungeons. He's called Sir Peter and he told us he 'took the cross to free Jerusalem from the Saracens' whatever that means and he's dressed like an old knight, but with chainmail rather than the full armor. I think he was at Nick's Death Day Party. He told us that he only came back to the castle recently but that he had heard about the Chamber in his time and he could confirm it existed, even if he didn't know where it is. He told us he would search on his side and tell us if he found something._

 _Take care_

 _Harry_

 _PS: we (meaning especially the twins) hope to see some pictures of the place you're living. I told them it would be non-moving muggle ones._

Hermione frowned. The lack of progress was not that surprising. That helpful ghost was strange but what he said made him a crusader and a pureblood was very unlikely to have taken part in one of those, which in turn made him unlikely to be the Heir… if he was telling the truth of course.

 _Write them to try to cross-check the info with other ghosts… Draco freaking out: amusing but I have to agree with Harry. Something does not compute. We have determined that he doesn't know who the Heir is… could he think I am the Heir? Sad to say that a new attack would be helpful, both to provide new hints and get me off the list of potential suspects in the minds of some people._

"Let's sleep on it. I'll write back tomorrow."


	7. Spring Festivals (part I)

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. Your opinions are always welcome._

 _Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. I scrapped three versions of this one before coming up with something I was satisfied with. I hope you will like it._

 _Among other things, this chapter contains some answers to a question to which neither Rosario+Vampire nor Harry Potter really reply. While both use the concept of pocket dimensions to one degree or another, none of them defines where the summoned creatures come from. In this story, I already mentioned that other realities exist by basing part of my cosmology on the Celtic myths and mentioning Otherworld. 3x3 Eyes, Moorcock's Eternal Champion novels and the recent Doctor Strange movie helped me to design how things worked (this last movie is responsible for the location of an organization's HQ in this story)._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes, feeling something poke her cheek. She distinguished a writhing shape in the darkness of her room, surrounding a single, slightly glowing purple eye.

"What?" she asked, irritated of being waken up in the middle of the night.

She knew that a few weeks ago, she would have screamed. The creature floating near her bed was a football-sized mass of tentacles with a single eye and two small bat wings. Most people would have screamed if they woke up while being poked by one of its tentacles.

Hermione, though, wasn't most people when it concerned those creatures. She remembered rather vividly how cuddly Ghigos like the one floating near her bed could be, particularly after you bribed them with bits of raw fish. She also remembered marveling at the almost non-Euclidian patterns one could generate with its chromatophores.

Of course, she also had to write an essay on the creature following the class where she had met one. She therefore knew that Ghigos occupied a similar ecological niche as dogs in theirs home dimension, Naraka. This place – that her Mum had nicknamed 'The Courts of Chaos' – was one of her uncle's favorites to 'hire' help from. She also knew that Ghigos were a typical 'beginner' summon. The creature was not dangerous and actually quite useful as scout or messenger thanks to its flying ability and a talent for camouflage that bordered on invisibility. That it looked to be right out of one of H.P. Lovecraft's stories was another matter.

Seeing that the Ghigo was frightened by her outburst, having felt the murderous spike of her own youki, she calmed and stroke the tentacles gently with her left hand. She had a pretty good idea of who had sent that creature and the Ghigo soon handed her a paper card, just before disappearing back into its own dimension, having fulfilled its mission. She switched her bedside lamp on to get a better look at it. It was blank except that… she concentrated a little bit to shift her vision mostly through her third eye.

This was one of the first things Touhou Fuhai had taught her. Many ayashi had a sixth sense allowing them to feel youki, the processed chi ayashi used to do magic. Vampires for example were renowned for how well they could detect other ayashi, even through camouflage charms and solid matter. The nocturnal predators could literally hone that sense into a fine-tuned targeting radar. Wizards were on the other end of that spectrum. Except for a few who generally had ancestors from other, more sensitive species, they lacked a natural way to detect youki and relied on various spells and artefacts.

Fomorians were somewhere in-between, in fact among the majority of ayashi on this matter. Hermione was not very good at it and doubted she would improve much more. It didn't really matter that much to her though, because she had something that changed the odds radically: her third eye. There was a good reason that Tuatha dé Danann and Fomorians with that trait were considered 'magically inclined'.

At first, her attempts at looking only through it had given such poor results that she had wondered if it was functional. When Touhou Fuhai, who was also a Three-Eyes like her, had started to teach her, she had understood that it was working perfectly. The problem was that her Third Eye was not attuned to same spectrum as the other two. What it saw was not light, but chi and youki currents. She could watch a spell being cast and see how the magic formed and flowed, getting an almost instinctive understanding of its structure.

She knew that one day she would need to think long and hard about how different it made her, about how it affected her humanity. Right now, she just looked at the card again. Her uncle had used a way to message her that relied on the facts they were both Three-Eyes. The message was there, written in tiny filaments of silver light that had the correct structure to match her uncle's own aura.

 _We're going on a field trip and coming back tomorrow evening. Pack for cold and ability to trek. Meet me at 5AM in Apparition Room. Don't get caught. T.F._

She had expected something like this. Last evening, Fangfang had told her that he would not sleep much because of a special exercise Tiantian made him do each year before the Spring Festival, as the Chinese New Year was often called around here. They had both wondered if she and Desdemona would be included in it this year. The exercise had to do with the traditional house cleaning done on the day before New Year's Eve. It was a ritual for Chinese families, a symbolic way to clean out the bad luck accumulated during the year.

For the Huang mansion, it also meant something more. The house cleaning would include the yearly maintenance on the wards, taking advantage of the fact that the Spring Festival was a period of truce for all Chinese yaojing clans. The exercise Fangfang was doing was to sneak around to reach an objective, usually to retrieve an item. His parents would use the occasion to check for weaknesses in the security system.

 _So, either it's part of the exercise or… security. Getting me and maybe Mum and Fangfang on a field trip to an undisclosed location while the wards are weak is a security matter. It even explains why we're leaving that way. If the Miao have a spy in the mansion, they won't know we've left before it's too late,_ she thought as she walked into her bathroom.

She took a quick shower and put a few toiletries into a kit before going to her closet to dress up. She would pack only a few things, knowing she could use household charms to clean and repair the few clothes she was taking if needed. That way, she could just shrink everything and put it in her belt pouch for easy access. After thinking for a second, she reached for the button to reveal the closet's hidden shelves.

The shelves had filled up since she arrived, in good part thanks to Lingling's shady contacts. Contrarily to the undead girl, though, she had not gone for 'Israeli craftsmanship' but for German. She was growing fond of Heckler & Koch products. She wasn't aiming for those though. She could use one in an emergency but she was nowhere near combat-ready with them. What interested her right now were the blades. A good survival knife had several uses and so wouldn't be too embarrassing to explain to a human police officer if trekking was involved.

Getting back to the bedroom, she extended her hand towards her bedside table. A tendril of black metal sprung from the demon statuette resting there, covering the few meters between them. As it assembled in wand form in her hand, the statuette unraveled like a ball of yarn. She then proceeded with shrinking her gear, adding a digital camera and some spare batteries and memory cards. There would maybe be things she could use for the pictures Harry and Ron had asked. A last charm to have her hair be somewhat presentable and she only needed her shoes.

She considered possible itineraries, trying to balance factors like secrecy, easiness and the half hour she still had to reach the Apparition Room. Having reached a decision, she removed her socks and shrunk them with her trekking shoes and down jacket, putting it all in her pouch, before rolling up her cargo pants. The Rod morphed again, becoming a bathrobe and a pair of slippers. She snatched a towel from her bathroom and left. If she met anybody, she would say that she couldn't sleep and was on her way to the pool for an early swim, before the cleaning team closed it for the day.

* * *

 _Another all-nighter,_ thought Desdemona as she looked at her notes on the curses the wizards called the Unforgivables.

She had spent the night in the library for several reasons. The main one was that she needed a lot less sleep lately so she had decided to use that time to learn about the world she was now a part of. The other one was that the library was better placed than her bedroom to discreetly reach the Apparition Room at five AM. So, when she had received the message from Uncle Fuhai, she had packed what she needed and sneaked her backpack there.

 _I wonder how it goes for Hermione… Uncle Fuhai was not able to tell her yesterday evening. Well, this is just an exercise after all…_

She took a small bottle out of her jacket and swallowed a red pill, chasing it down with a little water. She knew that those pills were the main thing responsible for her insomnias and she had logically spent part of her sleepless nights going through magical medical literature. Even by wizard standards, the pills her father had prepared for her were anything but normal. In fact, she knew exactly what they were: a mutagen. Dormant sections of her genes had activated and her body had started to change. With the seal in place, it wouldn't be something as obvious as a third eye opening on her brow, but she was already far stronger and fitter than a mere month of training, however intense Tiantian had made it, could justify… if you looked at it from a human perspective.

When Hermione had told her that she could start to see her youki, Desdemona had understood. Her magic was awakening but lacked its usual, external outlet. Instead, it reacted to the abuse Tiantian put her through by repairing her body faster and in ways that shouldn't be possible. An article she had read from a Healer attached to a professional Quidditch team had showed that the western wizards knew about that principle but never really designed ways to direct it, thanks to physical fitness not being held in very high esteem in their culture.

 _Magical martial arts on the other hand… applied to yaojing, those comic book 'training from hell' regimens actually work, because they force a yaojing's magic to rebuild the body as a kind of survival reflex, not unlike what happens with accidental magic…_

She looked at the pills' bottle, feeling worried about what she was becoming. She had seen how being a Fomorian affected Hermione, how bits and pieces of her daughter's humanity had been slipping away. It was nothing dramatic like her suddenly turning into a bloodthirsty maniac, she had raised her better than that but sometimes… sometimes, Hermione looked at her as if something that should have been self-evident wasn't anymore and she had to think about it to reconnect it with the values she had been taught. For someone who went through medical school like her, the reason why was easy to guess. There were too many documented cases of brutal personality changes following brain damage and a Fomorian brain had to be built differently from a human brain.

 _But what if… what if our inhuman genes were not completely dormant and manifested in some minor way? Before I settled into my routine as a dentist, before founding a family with Ross became more important… I was just like Hermione, curious, wanting to understand but not for the sake of knowledge itself. I was curious because understanding led to mastery._

Her gaze fell on the pile of books on her working table. Some were innocent enough, magical medical texts of one kind or another. Others were the kind of book that horror story authors loved to talk about. They bore ominous titles like _Unaussprechlichen Riten,_ or _Canticum Nigrae Lunam._ She could not deny that she had learnt a lot from them… about topics like necromancy, fleshcrafting and the like. Those books all had one thing in common. They spoke of the Fomorian sorcerers reverently, lamenting all the secrets regarding their respective arts that were lost when their kingdom was destroyed. Her people were pretty much the ultimate reference in matters of the Dark Arts.

 _I won't regret anything. I made my choice for good reasons and Tiantian is right: innocence is a luxury I cannot afford anymore. Fighting for my life and to protect my family is not just a possibility. It's only a matter of time. If giving myself all the tools to protect my precious people means becoming 'dark', so be it,_ she thought as she got up to put the books away _. Moreover, it's already too late to think about turning back. Stopping my treatment would kill me now…_

"So, you hid here the whole night?" asked Touhou Fuhai as he entered the library.

"I only sleep once every other day currently."

"An unfortunate necessity, but you will be back to normal after the Equinox. How are your studies going?"

"Rather well, though… is it possible to do 'accidental' magic on purpose?"

"Is it possible to forgo all ritual, and just 'make a wish'? Yes, it's possible. Gestures, words, foci, they are in the end just tools to shape the caster's intent, to transform it into reality. However, techniques exist for a reason. Without them, the results can be made unpredictable by the smallest things," replied Fuhai. "There are some known cases though, all happening in times of urgency, that didn't end with too much of a catastrophe. What brought you to that topic?"

"I was working on that assignment you gave me about curses. Reading about the Killing Curse led me to wonder about Harry Potter. Do you think it could explain how he survived?"

"We'll talk more about those 'unforgivable' spells later and why they are not as terrible as some would like you to believe. Regarding Harry… no, a baby would lack the focus to trigger something."

"I did not mean it directly… but what if the parents died wishing to protect him. According to Grindelwald's _Unaussprechlichen Riten,_ blood sacrifices have a lot of power," she countered.

Fuhai looked at her with a little smile and she knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing she had been musing about a few minutes ago: she had not even blinked while mentioning a book most wizards considered toxic.

"True and an interesting theory. I would need to check Harry himself to verify it. If it's what happened, the boy will have lingering traces of that sacrifice… and this would explain why Harry said that Quirrell could not touch him. Yes, very interesting…"

* * *

 _Sneaking through the halls was not that complicated in the end…_

Sure, it was not her first time, far from it. When they had brewed the Polyjuice during the weeks before Christmas, she had to find ways to discreetly reach the unused bathroom where they had set their improvised potion lab. On the other hand, the current setting was very different from Hogwarts.

On the plus side, she wasn't supposed to stay in her room during the nighttime, contrarily to the Hogwarts dorms. She could technically even leave the estate if she wanted to… though her Mum would have a few words for her if she did. On the minus side, the estate's security had been designed by a bunch of yaojing with anime ninja skills like Tiantian and Lingling and a budget worthy of a James Bond movie. Electronics and magical warding worked in synergy, covering for each other's faults and the estate had armed security guards, though those would mostly be on outside perimeter watch. Hermione therefore knew that her chances of moving undetected through the house were zero. Going from the pool to the Apparition Room before someone thought it was strange was a lot easier.

She reached the pool without a problem beyond greeting one of the people from the night shift. It was then that she noticed a black and white shape on the lawn, which took the attention of the guard there as it reached for one of the bamboos near the pond. She knew that shape. She had seen it often enough, usually accompanied by a sheepish expression on Fangfang's face. The giant panda on the lawn was the creature that appeared when her cousin botched a summon spell.

She switched her sight to her third eye, looking for her cousin's youki. Yes, here he was, just a shadow in the shrubbery, his aura tuned down to the minimum. The guards could probably have spotted him… if the panda had not acted as a diversion. She started to move, exiting the pool through the back to reach the covered passage leading to her objective. It was better if she took advantage of the distraction too…

* * *

"He's doing better than last year," said Feihong as he watched his son progress from the house's roof, protected by an invisibility ward.

"Aiya!" replied Tiantian, obviously irritated. "I will have words with the idiot who set up the cameras on the left wing."

"We have been doing that for three years now. We could only expect Fangfang to keep some of the loopholes he noticed for himself."

"True… but dangerous in the long run. As interesting as this exercise has been, we should not repeat it for that very reason."

"Agreed. Fangfang is going to ask where Hermione is going… I'll explain him why he could not go with her and Desdemona on that field trip."

"Thanks, husband. Any idea of why the Founder wants to see them?"

"No, just a request coming through the Society and delivered to Great-Grandfather. She clearly said 'alone' though, so…"

* * *

Hermione snuck through one of the eight doors of the Apparition Room, quickly closing it behind her. She soon noticed that her mother and Touhou Fuhai were already here.

"Good to see you're on time," said Fuhai. "Though I have to wonder about your choice of clothing given our destination…"

"It's just a disguise. Officially, I was going to the pool for an early swim," she replied as the Rod morphed back to its belt shape.

She took her shoes, socks, and jacket out of her belt pouch and unshrunk them, which made her uncle chuckle.

"By the way, you didn't tell us where we are going," said Desdemona.

"True. While Hermione finishes dressing up, a few words about our trip then. Do you remember what I told you about the Viridian Veil Society?"

"They're an international guild of summoners that you are a member of and that has existed under one form or another for two thousand years," replied Hermione. "While their main goal is research in that field, they also work with magical governments on problems like other summoners trying to call in a real-world Dormammu or potential demon invasions. We are going to their headquarters in Kathmandu? Also, is Fangfang…"

"Fangfang is not coming with us," cut in Fuhai. "I organized this trip in a hurry because the Founder of the Viridian Veil Society asked to see you both alone. Should you accept her invitation, I will guide you there and then wait for you at the Society's HQ, as it's the only place with a portal to where the Founder lives."

"Isn't that… a little rude not to invite you?" asked Desdemona.

"The circumstances are anything but normal. The Founder never leaves the Hermitage and only the Society's Head Librarian and the Founder's servant creatures are authorized to enter it on a regular basis. Even if I am one of the Society's most senior members, I have never seen her in person. That she invited you is… exceptional."

"How does she communicate with the outside world?"

"She has several means at her disposal, some magical, others technological. She usually contacts me using magical mirrors. I also know that Feihong had very expensive satellite communication equipment delivered to the headquarters, only to be taken by a summon and transported to the Hermitage. I have no idea how she powers them there, though."

"Where is the Hermitage?" asked Hermione.

"In the Annapurna Massif, which reminds me…" he said, handing each of them an ofuda. "Keep those talismans on you at any time when outside. "One of the Hermitage's protections is its location, above the seven thousand meters' mark. Their charms will provide you with air and warmth for the next seven days."

Hermione took the talisman, quickly securing it into one of her down jacket's inside pockets. The words 'above seven thousand meters' put together with 'Annapurna' ranked pretty high on her list of inhospitable environments.

"So, we're off to see the Ancient One?" asked Desdemona, citing jokingly the name of the old master who taught Dr. Strange in the comic books and lived in the Himalayas. "The Ancient One… she wants to see only us? Is she…" she added, remembering another meaning those words could have in the real world.

"I have no proof but this is definitely something I speculated about. What I know is that the appearance she uses to communicate with the outside world is human and has some of the traditional attributes of the goddess Xi Wangmu, who is a keeper of immortality. Likewise, the Hermitage is the place behind the legend of Mount Kunlun. She also asked several times to see Tenmei but that he always refused without telling me or Akasha why. Finally, she called in ALL the favors my clan owed her to bring you two to her without telling Tenmei about it before you are there. Therefore, the decision to go see her is yours."

"Mum… if she's really… why won't Grandfather see her?"

"I don't know but… my father never told us about his parents or any modern-era Fomorian. Maybe there is something personal. Uncle?" said Desdemona.

"She guaranteed me your safety."

"Then we'll go see her."

"Good," replied Fuhai. "Now…"

He clapped his hands together, making hand signs while he incanted rapidly in Sanskrit. On the floor, the yin-yang sign occupying the center of the room started to glow as the magic circle around it rotated. The circle shattered in pieces which started to reorganize while the yin-yang symbol levitated, soon reaching a storage space on the ceiling. Below it stood a circular pool with a glowing, emerald liquid surface. The liquid started to rise, forming a vertical, shimmering curtain.

"Chevron seven locked," said Desdemona in a whisper.

"Rather like a water version of the Floo," replied Hermione just as softly.

"Both comparisons are actually correct," replied Fuhai with a chuckle. "How wormhole physics applies to portal magic and its common applications like the Floo Network is something we will talk about… in April given our current study plan. Now, follow me!"

The diminutive master of the mystic arts jumped through the curtain, leaving the room. Hermione looked at her mother, seeing the mix of fear and excitement about the situation on her face.

"It's perfectly safe, Mum, but it may be a little rough from what Harry told me about his experience with Floo travel."

"You're right, not the moment to chicken out," replied Desdemona, jumping through.

Hermione soon followed. She almost expected the impression of 'cosmic rollercoaster' described in the Stargate show. Instead, there was just an instant of unnatural cold, an impression of emptiness that passed as they emerged on the other side, in a snow-covered courtyard. They quickly climbed a few steps to exit the pool where an emerald water curtain mirroring the one from the Huang estate was standing, as if held by the claws of the twin stone Chinese dragons encircling it.

Hermione quickly zipped her jacket, more out of reflex than anything else. The talisman in her pocket was protecting her against the cold air and the rapid change of altitude. She could guess at the shape of a nearby pagoda in the darkness and supposed they were in Kathmandu. A quick glance with her third eye revealed that the area was heavily warded… but the warding scheme was very different from the Huang Estate. They did not give the same impression of privacy that the mansion did. The ones of this place rather worked by reinforcing awareness. She suddenly understood. This place wasn't a castle. It was a watchtower. Local protection was only secondary here. She could see the currents of chi starting from the pagoda and disappearing over the horizon. She was pretty sure that they were some kind of magical sensor array.

 _Logical. They must be for detecting dimensional incursions._

Her uncle was already casting another spell at the fountain. This time, the pool's water froze and surged upwards, forming an emerald ice mirror. They followed him through it and she really thanked the talisman she had been given. The local conditions of the cave they had arrived in were too extreme for it to shield her completely. She felt the cold and a slight light-headedness and she knew that without her uncle's protection, she would be freezing and breathing hard, trying to get what little air was around.

She noticed the statues along the walls, massive demonic warriors of the kind you often found guarding Buddhist temples. Just as expected, they were heavily enchanted… and watching. There was also another statue near the cave's entrance, half-covered by the snow… it wasn't a statue. The bull-sized creature shook the snow away and Hermione felt something strange, like a warped version of that 'so cute!' gut feeling she used to have with kittens. Except that here, the 'animal' she was looking at was a griffin. Its 'cat' part was of a massive white tiger while the 'bird' one was reminiscent of an American bald eagle. She then noticed the silver pectoral it was wearing and given that her uncle didn't seem surprised to see it, she guessed they had just met the 'watchdog'. As it prowled in her direction, she could only think about how majestic…

"I wonder if it would mind if I took a picture… Hagrid would love it," she said softly to her Mum.

"I wouldn't mind," replied a purring voice.

"You're… talking?" she said, almost dumbstruck as griffins were not supposed to be able to speak or even be fully sentient.

"Hermione, what do you mean?" asked Desdemona. "I just heard an amused growl… Uncle Fuhai?"

"And I just heard a growl without being able to tell if it was amused or not. This is quite interesting, isn't it?"

"Drat, I forgot to…" said the griffin while reaching for its pectoral with one of its front talons. "Here, you should all be able to understand me now," it continued, the pectoral's gems pulsating rhythmically with its voice. "My name is Llagan and I welcome you at the Hermitage. My mistress has been as giddy as a freshly hatched cub at the idea of meeting you. Thank you for bringing them here, Master Touhou Fuhai."

"Can I leave them under your protection?" asked Fuhai.

"My species was bred when the Sons and Daughters of Lemuria needed noble steeds to take the war against the Dragon Lords into the sky, Danaean," replied the griffin on a very haughty tone. "Eons may have passed but our loyalty never faltered."

Hermione and Desdemona looked at each other. They knew that they were both processing what the griffin had just said, a sentence that revealed a lot when you knew about some legends that were generally thought to be a hoax put together by nineteenth century occultists, to provide an explanation for some holes in biogeography. Since then of course, plate tectonics had filled those holes satisfactorily and Lemuria became just another literary lost land, together with Robert E. Howard's Hyborian Age or Edgar Rice Burrough's Barsoom. It had, among other things, been used several times in the Marvel Comics Ross Granger liked to read. But now, with this sentence, Lemuria wasn't a legend anymore. It was the land of their ancestors.

"I am reassured to see that the griffins' fierceness is no mere legend," replied Fuhai, his gaze meeting Llagan's without fear. "But do not doubt me either. I have little use for resentment born from eons past."

"Uncle…"

"Sorry, Desdemona. As distorted as the Irish myths are, they are right on one thing: the relationship between our people is a complicated matter and the events that inspired the tale of the battle of Maigh Tuireadh certainly didn't help. But, as I mentioned, this was a long time ago. Old hatreds must die, lest they poison our present."

"Well said," replied Llagan. "We remember too that when the Dragon Lords pressed us, the Sons and Daughters of Dana sailed from the Blessed Isles of Avalon to come to our aid. Let us remember this rather than the sour memories of Maigh Tuireadh."

"Try to have fun, you two," said Fuhai, turning toward Hermione and Desdemona. "I will see you tomorrow in Kathmandu."

They waved goodbye to each other and the Tuatha dé Danann passed through the portal again, leaving them with the griffin. Almost immediately, the creature relaxed.

"Just so that you know, I'm not that stiff usually… waiting in the snow probably made me a little cranky."

"Couldn't you…" started Desdemona.

"My pectoral is protecting me against the altitude. It's just that it's the pandemonium in there," it replied with a sigh, pointing outside of the cave with the tip of a wing. "Mistress had all the servants scramble to clean the whole fortress, saying things like 'can't have them believe I'm a crazy cat lady… no offense to you, Llagan'. So, I decided to be a good familiar and volunteered to come wait for you here."

They followed the griffin outside, on pathless icy terrain. The two Grangers frowned as they noticed that the griffin's steps did not match the ground and neither were theirs. They had the impression of being on a dry, flat road.

"The path is camouflaged. We regularly have planes passing in this area, so we had to take some precautions," said Llagan.

"Why not put the portal inside the fortress? For security reasons?" asked Desdemona.

"Yes, though this is something the Mistress has been thinking about since a group of alpinists almost stumbled on the fortress."

"What happened to them?"

"Mistress summoned a snowstorm and we made sure they went another way. Thankfully it's rare. This place is not on the usual ways they use to reach the summit."

They entered another cave at the end of the way and the rough rock soon ceded way to stone masonry of precisely adjoined irregular blocks. Without surprise, a heavy stone door lowered itself from the ceiling, sealing the passage behind them, letting them to wait in a small, bare room.

"This is like Incan stonework… in the Himalayas," said Desdemona.

"Mum, there is enough runework on the walls that I can barely see the stone. I think there are warming charms in the lot but…"

"Some of it is defenses. Enough to incinerate intruders," cut in the griffin as the inside door opened. "You won't need the protection talismans inside the fortress. One of the reasons for this room is to allow for a controlled environment inside."

Hermione tentatively removed her jacket, cutting the effect of the talisman in the pocket. The griffin had been right. Not only was the air pressure quite comfortable but so was the temperature. She nodded to her mother, who removed her own jacket.

"Finally… finally," said a disembodied voice. "Welcome to my abode, Hermione and Desdemona. I am the Founder, but please, call me Khany. After all… we are kin."

Reddish, glowing vapor poured through the walls, flowing together to form a feminine humanoid shape. It was then that a question that had bothered the two Grangers found its answer. The Founder was a Fomorian all right, the third eye and the horns were plain to see. The issue was that she was in a 'different state of life'. She was a ghost.

* * *

They were sitting comfortably on couches covered with soft furs and arranged in a half-circle around a central fire pit. Hermione thought the flames to be comforting. Beyond the large glass bay the landscape of the high Himalayas was breathtaking but also cold and harsh. She looked at the apparition sitting in front of them, who smiled as a house elf brought them tea. The teenage Fomorian could not help but frown when she noticed that the ghost was effectively drinking.

"First, let's get a few things out of the way. With the way Hermione has been looking at me, she is trying to figure out what I am."

"No offense…"

"Just Khany. Given that our species is reduced to four members currently, I don't feel like being formal."

"Thanks, Khany. You're more… solid than the ghosts I know. Also, you can still do magic."

"The ghosts you met in Hogwarts are different from me and it's not a matter of them being wizard ghosts. The ghosts you met were likely born out of one form of fear or another. One may fear what will happen when he crosses over. Another may regret something he did and be chained by that feeling. Those ghosts are pitiful shades who chose a half-life rather than face their problems. My case is different… to make a pop culture reference, I have some things in common with a certain Imhotep."

"You're talking about the Mummy movie?" asked Desdemona. "I didn't imagine…"

"I don't sleep much and I have satellite TV. I liked both the Boris Karloff and the Brendan Fraser versions, for completely different reasons. In our current conversation, though, what's important is how Imhotep became undead."

"He was mummified al… Good Lord!"

"Yes. In the ancient times, the death penalty was not the worst punishment that a Fomorian could inflict on someone. No, in the worst case… in the worst case, the 'criminal' saw her family slaughtered before her, their life forces used to create the soul jar that would forever chain her in the tomb she was sealed in with the corpses of her loved ones. Even when death finally claimed her, it was only to face eternity as a deathless wraith.

"This is why I am different from the ghosts you met, Hermione. Because I am in fact more like the specter of Voldemort your friend Harry met last year than the Hogwarts' ghosts."

"Goodness… how did you manage to stay sane? And what kind of crime can justify that?" asked Desdemona.

"Sanity… well, I was definitely insane at times, but I got better. I had reasons to get better. I'll come to them later as I'll tell you about my 'crime', but first, I need to tell you a story, the story of our people. What you got so far are probably a few stories that the sapiens and the magi passed down, distorting them further with each generation. Even Fuhai does not know much more than that, given his own family's history. Those stories probably made you wonder what kind of monsters the Fomorians were and if you risk to become monsters yourselves. Yes, Hermione?"

"When you say 'sapiens' and 'magi', you mean _homo sapiens_ and _homo magus_ , the latter being for wizards?"

"Indeed. You will see that labeling them like that is important to my story. To understand how it all started, we have to go back far in time. One hundred thousand years ago, the sky was set ablaze by a meteor shower…" she said, passing her hand on the fire between them to conjure images of past eons.

They talked for hours, Khany answering their questions as the story progressed. She made it livelier by illustrating dry facts with anecdotes and short folk tales helped the two Grangers to get a real feeling for how their people used to live. They learnt how the Starstones changed the species of the area where they fell, making them more magical and how those species often came to consider them as sacred relics sent by their gods.

Of course, some of the creatures changed by a Starstone were central to the story. They were a group of _homo erectus_ living in southeast Asia, at a time when one could walk from India to New Guinea without ever leaving dry land _._ Those hominids shifted a little toward the carnivorous end of the omnivorous spectrum and developed better cognitive abilities, as well as traits unique to all the species of the _homo_ genus, like horns. Those primitive Fomorians became fierce enough to survive the competition caused by the arrival of the sapiens millennia later.

Because of their feeding habits, the Fomorians took to cattle breeding, transitioning first to a pastoral society and then to permanent villages some twenty thousand years before present times. Villages became towns, then cities and the sapiens of the area mostly left, keeping to their foraging ways for many more millennia. Those who stayed… Hermione and Desdemona had to swallow a bitter truth when the story reached that point: many concepts the sapiens put together during their history were not suited to a situation where several sentient species co-existed. Any idea of 'all men are created equal' shattered when one of the species was stronger, longer-lived and more magically adept than the other. What happened then was a story many times repeated between sapiens cultures throughout history: the strong enslaved the weak.

Ironically, the Fomorians of that era were kinder than many of the sapiens who enslaved members of their own species later. Their reasons were multiple. The first was as simple as it was terrifying for the Grangers: being biologically superior, the Fomorians had no need to degrade their sapiens slaves. Quite the contrary, they applied their logic of cattle breeders to that new species. They treated them like humans had treated their dogs: a useful species to which they could teach tricks, one that could become, once domesticated, a faithful companion. The sapiens became servants, farmers and artisans, often trusted members of a Fomorian household even if they had a lower status. When literature and theatre became widespread enough, the reasonable human servant who saved his Fomorian master from his own recklessness became a recurrent figure in comedies.

This surprised both Hermione and Desdemona as the stories they had heard before coming here all painted a far darker picture. What Khany told them was that this period was often called the Age of Innocence by later Fomorian historians. During that period from roughly twenty thousand to fourteen thousand years before present times, the Fomorians expanded without encountering any resistance. The bands of foraging sapiens were easily pushed away or integrated. The Empire of Lemuria left its original grounds on Borneo to cover an area going from the Himalayas to Australia.

This wasn't to say that the Fomorians didn't have internal wars, but they followed strict rules imposed by religion, such as never harming the enemy's cattle. As the Empire grew, the rules became even stricter and soon ritualized jousts between champions replaced actual combat. Without the barbarian threat that plagued so many later sapiens empires, the Fomorians had little need for a standing army.

Things changed when some Fomorian sorcerers divined that Starstones had fallen in other places of the world. Expeditions were soon organized. If other people had been blessed by the gods, if the Fomorians had brothers and sisters somewhere, they had to be found. Ships sailed clumsily on the Pacific Ocean. The Fomorians were no great sailors, never having found interest in a place where their herds could not live. Yet, they rejoiced when they found those they called the Deep Shepherds, or Krakens in one of the dialects used by the Fomorian sailors of the expedition.

Despite being biologically different, the Krakens shared some essential values with the Fomorians. Just like them, the massive cephalopods were cattle breeders, shepherding herds of fishes and sea mammals, having domesticated useful species like the dolphins to contribute to their society. Both people influenced each other as trade grew between the drifting Kraken cities and the Fomorian Empire.

It was also through the Krakens that the Fomorians met the Danaeans. Just like them, they were hominids and the Starstones had blessed them similarly. However, they were a people of the seas. Having been chased by the advancing ice from their native Europe, they had settled on a large island whose sole present-day remains were its highest mountains, the present-day Azores. From there, they had settled colonies and trading posts on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean…

* * *

"So, the Danaeans are behind the legend of Atlantis?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," replied Khany. "Much later, the stories of their kingdom were told by Egyptian priests to Solon of Athens, who transmitted them to Plato. The philosopher took those legends and used them to write a moral tale about the politics of his time."

"I doubt that Athens was even a village in that time," said Desdemona, remembering how the city was cited in Plato's story.

"Exactly. Wizarding stories, while more accurate, are still wrong on many accounts because they have been distorted by ideology as well."

"And for… our Empire it was Lemuria," said Hermione.

"Mu or Lemuria are indeed twisted reflections of the Empire," replied Khany with a radiant smile. "The occultists of the nineteenth century found some texts that the teams in charge of the Statute of Secrecy missed and various fiction writers did the rest… You seem troubled, Desdemona. Is that because Hermione just used 'our' when thinking about the Empire?"

"Yes."

"Let's put some things about perspective. First, there is the matter of biology to consider. No doubt that it has worried the two of you, probably helped by various tales of people becoming inhuman monsters like the one of the Invisible Man. People who go through a transformation such as yours find themselves in a situation similar to someone trying to play football on a basketball field. It's not the right size, there are no proper goals and so on. So, playing requires more effort, like imagining where the goals are, and some things will look off, but it's still possible. What's important is that deciding to try to play basketball or not is up to you. You may even decide to create a new game mixing elements of the two.

"Personally, what I will do is tell you about your ancestors' culture. I will not force you to adopt it. Yes, this culture will clash with some of the values you were taught when raised as modern Englishwomen, just like ancient sapiens cultures… let's say those of the Roman Republic for example, would. What I hope you will do is take this heritage and integrate it, to form the kernel of a modern Fomorian culture, just like the Roman Empire influenced all European cultures. We'll talk more about it after lunch when I reach the first great war the Empire had to fight."

"Against the Dragon Lords Llagan told us about?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. This war robbed our civilization of its innocence… but, for now, let's not make Tilly wait."

She led them to a set of cushions set around a low table where plates had been laid.

"Do you…" started Desdemona, unsure of how to tactfully bring up the topic of food with a ghost.

"As you have seen, I drink tea and I can eat food… real food, Hermione," she added having seen the girl's shudder. "I suppose you took part in a Death Day party?"

"Yes," she replied, remembering the rotten food the ghosts pretended to taste at Nearly Headless Nick's party.

"I can survive on ambient magic alone but over time I realized that I missed some of the simple pleasures of life, like enjoying a good meal. So, I designed spells that allow me not only to taste food but to convert it into energy I can use."

"Did you ever think about creating yourself a new body?" asked Desdemona.

"Many times… but then I remembered that the curse would still chain me to this place. So, instead, I just remodeled my prison a little bit."

"Can it be broken?"

"Yes. Most long-lasting curses have an escape clause. It may be well hidden but it's always here. It's part of what makes them so difficult to break through common ways to dispel magic. For example…"

"In a cartoon I used to watch, a group of Gargoyles were cursed to remain stone statues until their castle rose above the clouds," said Hermione. "It was broken when a billionaire had the castle rebuilt on top of a skyscraper."

"I was about to tell about the classical prince's kiss, but this is better," replied Khany with a smile. "In my case… my chains can be undone by a member of my direct family performing a purification ritual."

"I suppose this is why they killed the victim's family for that… I don't know how to call that," said Desdemona.

"I had a long time to get used to my present situation and mourn my loved ones, Desdemona. As horrible as my current situation is, it also gave me the… fortitude needed to be here for you two."

"I cannot understand why grandfather didn't mention you. You must have met him, right?" asked Hermione.

"Tenmei and I… have some shared history, things that happened centuries ago that made our relationship difficult. I'll tell you more about it later but this is why I had Fuhai bring you here without his knowledge. I wanted you two to know me without past mistakes clouding the road. For now, let's eat!"

"Is that…" started Hermione as she looked at the bronze dishes, noticing how ancient they looked and the exotic-looking food they contained.

"As much like traditional Fomorian cooking as I could. Many of the traditional ingredients sadly don't exist anymore but I was able to find replacements in most cases," replied Khany. "I hope you will like it."

Hermione attacked the bloody meat that seemed to be a major part of the meal with gusto. As good as Chinese food was, it was not a balanced diet for a growing Fomorian girl. Thankfully, she was not the only ayashi at the Huang estate with carnivorous leanings but this was different. This was cooking made for her species, with marinades refined over centuries to flatter Fomorian palates. She could see that her Mum had more difficulties but seemed to get into it.

"This is Kreshtort, a traditional drink," said Khany, while pouring a bronze cup to each of them. "Desdemona, do not worry if it isn't to your taste."

As she took her cup, Hermione noticed the runework on it, designed to keep the drink at a precise temperature. She took a sip of the spicy, dark red beverage, marveling at its texture as it played on her tongue, at how subtle the coppery aftertaste… coppery? She looked at her cup and took a sniff. She had just thought it smelt good but now she realized why.

"That's blood," said Desdemona. "Spiced but still blood…"

"The main ingredient of Kreshtort is cow blood," replied Khany while savoring her own cup. "It's a light stimulant, not unlike coffee. Getting the formula to work with present-day ingredients has been a challenge."

"I'm not sure… maybe after the Equinox I will be able to appreciate it more."

"If you want, we can get rid of this little problem today," replied Khany. "I know that Tenmei planned to have the ceremony done at the Griffin Reservation on Borneo. There are still a few ruins of the old Capitol City there. However, I have something better here, something that will ensure you… evolve properly."

"The Starstone. The Fomorian Starstone is here," said Hermione.

Khany nodded, smiling.

* * *

Tenmei Mikogami was going through his mail, quickly sorting out various school-related ones from the personal ones. He was leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow, having been invited for New Year's Eve on Friday night and he would probably spend the week-end there with his family… Family. Having descendants was still something he was getting used to. He had been so used to being the Last living Kishin on Earth.

He got back to his mail, quickly determining what he could delegate to his secretary or to the directors in charge of Yokai Academy's elementary, middle and high school. He tagged them with sticky notes and put them in his 'out' basket. His secretary would forward them appropriately.

Two of the personal letters retained his attention. He first perused through the news Touhou Fuhai had sent about his daughter and granddaughter. Things seemed to be progressing well though… he rubbed his temples before getting up to look by the window. He now understood why his friend had sent this letter rather than waiting for him to be in Hong Kong to deliver the news. It was to defuse the argument that would likely have happened.

"You seem troubled," said a voice from his office's entrance.

He didn't have to turn to know to who this voice belonged to. He knew that voice as well as the smell of the cigars that particular ayashi smoked. In fact, most of the Academy's students would have immediately recognized the mustachioed man in a blue bus driver uniform, complete with white gloves and cap, his eyes yellow lights burning in the not quite natural shade of said cap, not unlike the way Mikogami's eyes were often hidden by his monk headdress. Yet, to most people, he was just the Bus Driver. Few actually knew his name.

"Fuhai received a request from the Founder," said Tenmei. "He is taking them to Mount Kunlun."

"Predictable. Your granddaughter awakening is not something she would have missed… Tenmei, do not let the past poison you."

"I know that she did what she could given how shackled she was at the time, Nurari. I know she saved me when Avalon and Lemuria decided that using magical weapons of mass destruction was necessary to end their rivalry once and for all…"

The Bus Driver put his hand on the shoulder of his friend, remembering the scrawny kid he had found centuries ago, a kid who didn't know how to cope with the fact he had survived his own species' extinction. Tenmei's survivor's guilt had been such at the time that he had hated this woman for saving him, or rather for having been able to save only him, projecting him millennia forward in time, to the place where Nurari found him. He had taught the boy to survive and then his encounter with Akasha and Touhou Fuhai had given Mikogami a real will to live again. Yet… Nurari knew that the fact Tenmei had no children – at least until Desdemona's accidental conception – was not a matter of chance.

"You know as well as I do that the whole 'Last Son of Lemuria' act is wrong. The Otherworld colonies survived, though they do not seem interested in coming back. Many of the species your people uplifted survived as well: succubae, vampires, wizards… even the humans to an extent. You should rather enjoy what life brought you and remember that she is your mother, even in her current state."

"It… you are right. I have no desire to talk to her yet but I will let Desdemona and Hermione decide for themselves. As Fuhai is teaching them, they will get involved with the Viridian Veil Society anyway."

"And therefore with her… another thing you should remember: she founded the Society to protect the world you are living in from otherworldly menaces."

"You are living in that world too, old friend."

Nurari chuckled. Things seemed to look a little better already. However, this wasn't why he came to this office.

"Speaking of happiness, I paid a visit to Moka's guardian. He said he sent you a message and… well, we talked about the girl's well-being."

Mikogami tensed. He knew what that message, the second letter that had kept his attention, probably held. For her own protection, Moka Akashiya was currently living with a human priest friend of his. The problem was that the human kids in her neighborhood just felt that something was unnatural in the young vampire girl. He had been torn while trying to balance the happiness of the daughter of his late friend Akasha Bloodriver and the necessity of protecting her from some of the ayashi factions.

"When he told me how sad she was, how alone she felt… well, I remembered that Hermione and she are the same age. So… maybe they could be friends? It could start innocently, help in English against help in Japanese…" continued the Bus Driver.

Tenmei frowned as thoughts danced in his mind, exploring new possibilities in his strategy regarding Moka. The idea of sending the girl to Hong Kong had sometimes gone through his mind but he had always discarded it. The temptation for the Miao would be too great. But now…. Now, Moka had another set of cousins and England was far away from the Miao's sphere of influence.

"I will talk with my daughter. Do you think Moka would enjoy being an exchange student?"

"You realize that it likely means her in Hogwarts?"

"I'll owe Dumbledore a favor… and I know what he needs. He needs a mediator to negotiate an alliance with the Fae against Voldemort. I have the advantage of having both sides trusting me."

Mikogami walked to his computer and typed some commands, checking reports. He smiled ferally as he read a report regarding a little war the Miao had with some Russian mafia gangs. This meant that they would be too busy to notice Moka in Hong Kong for a while. This would give Fuhai some time to prepare her… the Yaksha owed him that much with the stunt he just pulled, taking Desdemona and Hermione to see his mother without his approval.

"I see that you're in full scheming mode," said Nurari with a smile, opening the office's door. "I'll leave you to your planning."


	8. Spring Festivals (part II)

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. Your opinions are always welcome._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

Ross Granger had been going through some paperwork. It was refreshing in a way, just to handle some completely mundane patient files. At the moment, he just had to think about the filling he had to do on the young Mister Shaw next Monday and how he would have to admonish him about eating so many sweets. His thoughts were interrupted by his ringing phone. He wondered for a moment if it was a call from Asia but reasoned that his wife or the Huangs would have called on his cell phone rather than the office's line. Just as he thought, it was just the practice's receptionist. He pushed the button for the speaker.

"Yes, Gladys?"

"Doctor Granger, I'm sorry but I have a Miss Villarreal with an emergency," said his secretary, obviously annoyed at something. "She said – or rather she wrote – she was recommended by a Ms. Blackrose…"

He could guess why now. Had Ms. Blackrose been one of his regular patients, Gladys wouldn't have batted an eye. Ross had however made sure to keep this part of his life away from the practice… until now.

"It's all right, Gladys. Ms. Blackrose is an acquaintance of mine. I will come see Miss Villarreal."

He found his secretary's problem quite easily. Miss Villarreal was leaning against the wall of the reception, holding an ice pack to her jaw. He also easily determined his secretary's issue with the girl. Her leather pants, black top and stiletto heeled sandals were better suited to London clubs than to the middle-class suburb the practice was situated in. He was wondering about how light her clothes were for January when he noticed a leather jacket and a purse left on the floor next to her. The young woman's probable origins were easy to guess, though he could be wrong. Miss Villarreal seemed to be a quite stunning Latin American girl, one with a rather strong Native American ancestry, something reinforced by the jade and gold, pre-Columbian styled bracelets she wore.

She immediately handed him her cell phone. There was an unsent text message on the screen saying: _'Sorry come here Doc. Silver bits stuck in teeth. Hurts. Can't heal. Help?'_

 _Silver… werewolf? That's strange though, wizard literature said that silver didn't work… something to ask her about later. Right now, I have a patient to attend to._

"Please follow me, Miss Villarreal," he said, handing her back the phone.

The young woman nodded and fetched two things in her purse, giving them to his secretary and showing her 'for paperwork' on her phone screen. The things in question were a Mexican passport and a credit card.

"Xochitl? How do you even pronounce that?" he heard Gladys mumble as he led his patient through the hall.

* * *

"Mum…"

Hermione looked imploringly at her mother. She knew that the treatment Desdemona was following was straining her body and would put her dangerously near the breakdown limit as the equinox approached. The original ritual would act to change that breakdown into an evolution. While both Uncle Fuhai and her grandfather had assured her that the risks were all accounted for, Khany was offering them a safer solution.

"I know, sweetie, but I need a little time to think about it… Khany, would it be possible to call my husband in England?"

"Of course, but I would rather have him brought here discreetly. The location of the Starstone is not information we can afford to spread. For example, a certain English Dark Lord would be very interested to know about it."

Hermione paled. She remembered all too well how far Voldemort had gone to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone. She could only start to guess what a wizard of his skill could do with an artifact like the Starstone.

"Is it possible?" asked Desdemona.

"It's a matter of minutes for one of my servants to go fetch him… you may have to write a note so that your husband understands the situation, though."

"I have a code phrase I can give your servant. My husband will know that he can be trusted."

"Very well, now…"

The ghostly rings on Khany's hands suddenly acquired substance, as if they had been replaced by the items they were but a reflection of. Their stones blinked in sequence and they heard thunder in the distance as a summoning circle was suddenly drawn in red light on the stone floor next to the table. Stormy clouds started to assemble inside, compacting until they formed the shape of a nubile girl whose modesty was barely preserved by shawls of white clouds loosely draped around her body.

"Humble greetings, Great Mistress! Ladies of Most Ancient and Noble Blood, greetings! Your wish is my command, whatever you want. If you want me to fly, to swim, to jump into fire, to ride the clouds in the sky, Ariel will get right to the task," said the elemental spirit in a high-pitched voice while her levitating body made a bow.

Hermione and Desdemona looked at each other. As one could guess from the naming theme running in the Granger family, they were both familiar with Shakespeare's plays and of course they had recognized the name and how the elemental presented itself. It was twisted for its audience and in modern English… but the lines from _The Tempest_ were still recognizable. When they put this together with what Ross had told them about the Bard having Fae friends… Ariel being real was in the end not that much of a surprise.

They also both remembered what Touhou Fuhai had taught them about elementals. They were a class of spirits frequently called upon by summoners, cousins of beings like the poltergeists. Like all spirits, they lacked a body of their own but they could easily manipulate their own element to give themselves a temporary one, as Ariel had just proved. They didn't age and were almost impossible to kill. To get rid of one, the simplest way was to banish it back to its home dimension or to seal it in a container of some kind, like the tree Ariel had been prisoner of in Shakespeare's play.

"Hello, Ariel… I'm afraid I have to ask a question you've probably already heard many times: did you know a wizard called Prospero?" asked Desdemona.

"Of course, your Highness, even though the Bard used the freedom of poets on some matters. For one, Prospero Zabini was not the Duke of Milano, but the magical advisor of the famous Lorenzo de Medici. Likewise, it was not Sycorax who sealed me, but the Morrigan, to prevent me from helping my Mistress… though both were horrible hags as far as I am concerned. I served Prospero for a few years, as is customary for my kind toward the sorcerer who unseals us. It was only temporary and done with the agreement of my Mistress of course. The pact I have with your House will forever hold precedence, your Highness."

Hermione swiftly turned her head to look at Khany. She was sure that the way the elemental had addressed her mother was not innocent and that their host… yes. Khany's expression just gave her the final clue she needed. As she was only the second Fomorian she had met, she had wondered if some of the mannerisms were just a general racial or cultural trait. She was now sure it was more than that. Too many times, the ancient ghost had shown traits that were very similar to the ones of her grandfather.

"Khany, you said we were kin but you didn't just mean the same species, right? In fact, we're family," said Hermione.

"Ariel…" said Khany, turning an exasperated eye toward the elemental who was watching the scene with great amusement.

"I could not help you then, Mistress, but I can help you now. Honesty will hurt, but it will serve you better than letting the truth fester in that old wound."

"You see, this is the problem with sentient summons, they get their own idea of what's best for you," replied the ghost with a sigh.

"I think it self-solves if you treat them like friends," said Hermione, looking at the woman she now knew to be her ancestor, even if she didn't know to which degree.

"True. Ariel, be a dear and go fetch my grandson-in-law. Desdemona?"

"Thank you, Ariel," replied the human. "Tell my husband: 'but my noble Saxon is true of mind and made of no such baseness'. He'll know you have my trust. But please, be discreet. The practice is a non-magical house. At this hour, you should find him in his office doing paperwork."

"Of course, your Highness! I shall make myself as invisible as a summer breeze!"

Ariel made an exaggerated bow and disappeared in a thunderclap. Desdemona turned toward their host.

"Grand…"

"I prefer just Khany, Desdemona. Fomorians do not address family members by titles like 'grandmother'. They would only use those words in sentences such as 'you are my granddaughter'. In fact, addressing me as 'grandmother' would be hostile, a way to show that you are only talking to me because of our blood ties and that you deny me my individuality. Also, Fomorians have four names: The True Name that is kept secret, a Clan or House Name, a Public Name that is often a kind of nickname and can change depending on life events and a Private Name to use with friends and family. Khany is my Private Name. My full name – minus the true one of course – would be… and I'm just trying to delay by spouting trivia. I'm so sorry… I suppose I was trying to find the right moment to bring up that issue, to gather enough courage to get over my own fear. That old wound between Tenmei and me is indeed a festering one and I didn't know what he could have told you, led by his resentment for me," she said as she started to pace around.

"Why would he resent you?" asked Hermione.

"This is… by the Stone!" she exclaimed, finally stopping sideways, as if she didn't dare to look at them. "You remember that I delayed talking about the 'crime' that led me to be imprisoned here. I said you needed to know about your people's history to understand. With what we talked about this morning, you will miss some nuances but it will be enough to rip that wound open and at least start cleaning it. When you judge me, because I can assure you that you will, remember that most of what I am going to tell you know are things I pieced together only long after the fact.

"My Public and House Names are actually very important for you to understand who I was… and incidentally your lineage. Before I was reduced to this pitiful state, I was Runhael of House Ra-Mu, Bearer of the Sun Staff, Protector of the Seven Cities, and Empress of Lemuria… and yes, we influenced Egyptian myths enough that our House's founder became worshipped as a sun god.

"When I came into my reign – our House always chose its heir depending on her or his magical power, not gender or birth order – the world was stuck in a cold war between Lemuria and Avalon, Kanaloa - the Kraken Empire in the Pacific – remaining neutral and the three of us having several small nations in our respective spheres of influence. Why were things so hostile? In many ways, we were like Sparta and Athens. Despite sharing some common cultural traits and being able to unite in front of an external enemy, our differences became too much when we lacked one. The Krakens had since long stopped trying to mediate our issues and, at that time, had little interest left in the surface world.

"This is the world I faced when I took the throne. I was in my second century and already a mother, quite average for a Lemurian Empress as a matter of fact. Yet, I had not lost the optimism of my youth. I had studied the situation and I had a plan to create a lasting peace between us and Avalon. I started to work, mustering all those who were weary of the conflict in both nations. Some of the Danaeans… I will use the Irish names for simplicity's sake as we have little time before Ariel comes back with Ross but know that the Irish genealogies are often wrong. Some of the Danaean lords like Dian Cecht supported my effort too but in our optimism, in our naiveté, we forgot that we had enemies.

"What we failed to see were those who had no interest in peace, both in Lemuria and Avalon. Some profited from the conflict. Others, particularly in our military and intelligence communities, just thought that you couldn't trust the other side and that keeping it as an enemy made things simple. Bress, our ambassador in Avalon, was the one to start the conspiracy. He had been playing both sides against the middle, enriching himself in the process. He approached Balor, our most… reactionary general and organized secret meetings with Lugh and Morrigan on the Danaean side. They came up with a plan of their own: create a crisis that would escalate into a limited war, destroying all chances for peace for some time.

"Of course, removing me and replacing me with someone more sympathetic to their cause was necessary. Bress had a Danaean immigrant assassinate Ossiran, my husband, and my spymaster found a nice network leading straight back to Avalon and several traitors among the Imperial Guard. Feeling unsecure in my own palace, not knowing if I could trust my own guard, I decided to put my family under the protection of the army by relocating to the command center… and played right into the conspirators' hands.

"The conspirators knew that their capacity to defeat me and my children in a straight battle while keeping it all under wraps was limited. This was why they arranged for us to be drugged during the travel from the palace, with the complicity of my own spymaster. Officially, our ship had been blown up by Danaean terrorists. The people rallied behind Balor who screamed vengeance against Avalon while Bress 'tried to calm down things'… in fact sabotaging very effectively any attempt to defuse the situation.

"Still drugged, we were brought here. This place was an abandoned fortress from the time of the Dragon Lords War, only mentioned in some military archives, but still with most of its anti-scrying and dimensional wards active enough to hide us and hold us for a time. It became our tomb. It was not simply the matter of the conspirators fearing an escape that would have led me or a Ra-Mu heir to challenge them later. Balor considered our whole House to be blood traitors and intended for me a punishment enacted only once, for the greatest traitor in Lemuria's history… I'll tell you more about him when we talk about the Dragon Lords.

"The conspirators slaughtered my bound children one by one, letting me watch as their life force fed the shackles on my soul. It's when I took the decision. I knew that they would sacrifice Tenmei last, because he was the youngest and did not have the Eye. I… I used my children's life, the magic they were pouring into the ceremony to force one last spell through my bonds. I sent him forward in time, hoping he could live in a safer era.

"But Tenmei… Tenmei…"

Desdemona took her by the shoulders to force her to look at her. Hermione could see that her Mum was doing her best to ignore the weird, grave-cold impression that touching the semi-solid ghost was giving her. The teenage Fomorian just shifted those thoughts aside. What was important was that Khany was her great-grandmother and that those who did that to her were evil people.

"Khany, could you have done anything else, maybe escaped? A time travel spell sounds atrociously expensive," asked Desdemona.

"We were all too weak," continued the ghost as if she had only half-heard the question. "Drugged and with curses limiting our magic. Only Tenmei… he didn't have the Eye. He couldn't see the curses on us. Also… they didn't bother to curse him, thought him a cripple. He was the only one I could have a transport spell work upon…"

"Why time travel?" asked Hermione who had risen and now held Khany's right hand.

"I didn't know who to trust. All I knew is that I had to send him far away, in a way that would bypass the wards of the fortress. The spell was experimental, something I had been working on during my spare time. I knew it would work but… Tenmei still hates me for it. He thinks I could have done something else. That I could have saved the Empire…"

Khany was sobbing now and they could see her traits losing definition, as if she had difficulties to retain her shape. Hermione took on herself to hug Khany's wraithlike body.

"So many dead," she continued to drone between sobs. "I spend centuries trying to understand… was I such a failure, both as a mother and Empress? Were things just that ready to blow up and all what we really needed was an excuse? All I know is that the idea of a limited war went down the drain once people started mobilizing. Bress was assassinated, possibly on Lugh's orders. The conspiracy fell apart after that and… nobody could control anything anymore."

"Could someone have wanted the Empire's destruction?" asked Desdemona.

"Maybe… the Ancient Enemy, the Dragon Lords. We were never sure if we destroyed them all."

"I don't understand," said Hermione. "Ojiisan is scarily smart and he knows a lot about strategy. There is no way he cannot understand this. Why doesn't he want to talk to you?"

"This is the one thing where I know what I did wrong," replied Khany with a small, derisive laugh. "When Tenmei was born without the Eye, so weak… it was never said to my face but I knew that many in the court thought I was weak for keeping a 'cripple' inside the family. They thought I should have given him up for adoption into one of our House's minor families, a practice that had replaced the infant exposure done by our barbaric ancestors. I couldn't. He was my son and I didn't care. What I failed to see was that others cared. Others taught him, repeatedly, that he was unworthy, only kept out of pity and that he would never amount to anything. I was too busy trying to change the world to see it."

"And when you saved him, my idiot father thought it was pity once again," said Desdemona with an exasperated sigh as she moved forward to hug Khany too.

"It's all right, Khany. You got better and I will tell Ojiisan he's being an idiot know-it-all… it kinda runs in the family," said Hermione.

"Yes, it does," replied the ghost with a smile, hugging both of her descendants back.

"Mistress?" asked Llagan as he entered the room. "Is everything all right?"

"I think… I think it will finally be. Thank you, old friend."

"I see. The place smells like Ariel. Damned sylph has been her usual obnoxious self… all right, fur therapy time for you ladies," replied the griffin as it laid next to the fire. "I'm told I'm very comfortable to lean against. Tilly!"

"Bringing drinks at once, sir griffin," replied the House Elf.

* * *

"So, your first name is Xochitl… it's Aztec, right?"

She nodded as she sat on the dentist chair but seemed somewhat annoyed. She typed again on her cell phone, soon showing a screen with _'Complicated. Tell later when I can speak."_

"Understood but I have to ask a few medical questions to make sure I get things right. You're a werewolf?"

Another nod, followed by some other high-speed typing. He could only marvel at her dexterity on this matter. The screen displayed: _'Natural. Not Maldito'._

From the documentation Eisheth had given him about the various Fae clans, he thought he understood. The 'Naturals' were people born as a kind of were and who could transform at will. There were none of them left in Europe, the last of the true werewolves having left for Asia with the fall of Wallachia. All that was left were the Cursed Ones, or Malditos in Spanish, people bitten who became uncontrollable beasts under the full moon. In America, however, numerous packs existed and there were stories about the recent appearance of other therianthropes, particularly bears in the northern part of the continent.

"Do I have to take special precautions regarding contact with your blood or saliva?"

She typed again while he prepared his instruments. This time, the screen showed: _'Blood to blood only. Lobo saliva safe in human shape. You not my type for other way'._

"Understood," he said while giving her a lead-lined apron and placing the x-ray machine next to her mouth. "This is to see where those fragments are… you don't…"

Again typing: _'Immune cancer. Like Deadpool.'_

"We will need to discuss later," he replied with a smile as he went behind a screen to push the switch of the x-ray.

Contrarily to her he wasn't immune to cancer and had to be prudent about small radiation doses piling up.

"The other side?" he asked while putting away the machine.

She shook her head and he took out the radiography, easily finding the metal fragments. Removing them wouldn't be too complicated and the main problem seemed to be the inflamed gums that kept them stuck in place.

He put on his mask and got to work. He quickly understood why the wizard literature was both right and wrong at the same time. While he had a hard time keeping his own cuts open long enough to get the fragments out, the regeneration immediately stopped once a silver fragment touched the cut and started again once he removed it. The person who wrote that silver was useless was probably too terrified by his 'test subject' to think that the metal had to stay in the wound to work.

 _That and wizard literature is all about Cursed Werewolves. True Werewolves may have different characteristics._

"I have to remove that molar. Will a new one grow in its place?"

She gave him a thumb up.

"Just like Deadpool…"

He finished his work, counting the fragments, and comparing them to what he could see on the radiography. Yes, he had gotten out everything and he could see that the young woman was already feeling better, the sick skin tone she had when arriving already starting to subside.

"Thank you, Doc," she said while massaging her jaw. "I'm Xochitl Villarreal. To answer your first question: 'Aztec' is a word to use with caution in the magical side of Mexico. It means 'people from Aztlan' and Aztlan is a very sensitive topic for us lobos."

"May I ask why?"

"Yes. You're not one of those idiot _Magos_ and from what la senhora Blackrose told me about you, my words won't be wasted on you. Aztlan is where the first _Lobos_ came from, from the other side of the western ocean. It was there that we lived with _Los Maestros,_ those who made us. After it was lost, our great leader, Dart-Hurler, forbade us to call ourselves Aztecs until… listen, this is deep religious stuff. There is a prophecy about a Lost Princess that will gather all the children of Aztlan around her and for my people it's just as serious as the Apocalypse for Christians."

Ross tensed. From the other side of the Western Ocean, when the origin point was in Mexico, that brought him back to Asia. He had a serious hunch about who the 'Masters' were. Creating new species seemed to be a choice hobby for his in-laws. Of course, the words Lost Princess had him immediately think about his little girl. He decided to file away the topic and discuss it with Eisheth the next time he saw her.

"I understand. On more immediate matters, is it better if I don't ask how fragments of a silver blade got stuck in your mouth?"

"Well… I'm a bounty hunter. I know you don't have many of us on this side of the world but it's quite common in America, because there are a lot of places without any magical government. The _Vampiro_ Don here in England started to issue bounties for things the _Magos_ don't want to fix and I thought I would give it a try. The _Magos_ … they don't try very hard when the victims are humans or Fae. I was after a _Maldito Mago_ who preys after young girls in the clubs. He takes them around the new moon and then Imperius them so that they leave a runaway note. He eats them at the next full moon. I was dressed like that to bait him."

"Is he…" said Ross, feeling his Hippocratic oath disappear under a thick layer of fatherly outrage.

"You can bet. Put him down like the rabid dog he was. Only bit of problem he gave me was that silver dagger."

"Out of curiosity," he said while accompanying her back to the practice's entrance. "Are there a lot of things 'those people' don't want to fix?"

"Enough to employ me full time."

Ross nodded gravely. Sadly, he wasn't even surprised. From what Eisheth had told him, there were good people in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but too many of them had died during Voldemort's terror campaign and had yet to be replaced, despite the fact said terror campaign happened more than ten years before. The small size of the wizard population was only partly to blame. Several points of the chain needed to supply the DMLE with decent personnel were at fault. Part of it seemed to be in Hogwarts, where most students with good results in Potions were curiously Blood Purists and this played a role in the candidates for the Aurors department. Another was in the Wizengamot, where Amelia Bones had to fight to keep her department correctly funded, which needed her in turn to reduce 'non-essential' postings. Finally, the rapid growth of the human population complicated the DMLE's work… and again there was no money to make the studies needed to adapt the DMLE's methods to the modern world.

In that context, people like Stockton – who probably was the _'Vampiro Don'_ the young woman had told him about – taking things into their own hands was anything but unexpected. The urban Fae had taken a page out of their Asian counterparts' book. They functioned more like a criminal underworld deeply rooted in the human world than an independent society like Wizarding Britain. The various clans controlled territories and gave protection in exchange for favors. It was still far from the almost open thing it was in places like Hong Kong but that bounty affair showed that Stockton was caring less and less about what the wizards thought. Given the mess of unjust laws he had discovered since he hired Finch and Blackrose as the family lawyers, Ross was finding it more and more difficult to care too.

He left her with Gladys for the last formalities after saying her goodbye. He had a little smile when she told him she would recommend his services to her friends. He made a mental note to get some literature on veterinary dentistry. If he started to receive Fae customers on a regular basis, they would be useful. He went back to his office, as he still had paperwork to finish.

"Greetings, Kind Sir," said an otherworldly voice as a slow draft started to blow through his office. "I didn't want to bother you while you practiced your art. The Blood Huntress may have disapproved."

"Who…"

He watched wide-eyed as a nubile girl made of stormy clouds coalesced in the air in front of him.

"My name is Ariel, Kind Sir. I am but a humble sylph in the service of your House. The Lady Desdemona told me to tell you: 'but my noble Saxon is true of mind and made of no such baseness' to ascertain that I come here with her consent and that you can believe me."

"What happened?" he immediately asked, fearing the worst and shoving aside the fact he had a character from a Shakespeare play in his office.

"Do not fear, talented disciple of Galen. The Lady has to make a decision with haste and wishes for your counsel. She sent me on Eurus' wings so that I can bring you to her."

Ross immediately started to think about his current schedule.

"I thank you for your alacrity, Swift One," he replied, deciding to play the elemental's game, as he gave him the correct reconnaissance phrase. "How long will the Zephyr need to bring us back to my wife?"

"My wings can be as fast as lightning, if need be, kind sir. I can also bring you back but I will need to rest for a night beforehand. You mortals are sadly fragile and much of my strength will be used to protect you as we ride on Zeus' thunderbolts."

He nodded. He only had a few routine appointments in the next two days and he could reschedule those or pawn them on the replacement he hired to replace his wife. Besides, if the decision was what he suspected, it was a lot more important than even his job.

"Thank you, Swift One. I need but a few minutes to prepare for that journey."

* * *

Desdemona was doing her best to enjoy the taste of Kreshtort, leaning against the griffin's flank, while she thought about the things Khany had just revealed regarding their family ties. Since she had understood how important her father was for the Japanese ayashi, she had known that celebrity was something she, Ross and Hermione would have to deal with. Being the granddaughter of an Empress, however, brought that expectation to new heights.

Desdemona was British. The concept of a Royal Family was something she understood very well. She understood the burden of the responsibilities laid on the Queen's shoulders, even if the day-to-day government was handled by the Prime Minister and Parliament. Khany on the other hand had been the absolute monarch of a country bigger than Europe. Desdemona could only wonder how many centuries the ghost had needed to get over what happened in that war she just told them about. How much she grieved for failing her people and family so badly.

 _She said we would judge her… but then I have to ask myself, would I have done better? Also, she didn't stay a ghost wallowing in grief. She found ways around her shackles, using summons to act in the world. Founding the Society. Removing dangerous artifacts from the war before the sapiens could start toying… I just said sapiens. I don't consider myself as…_

She was interrupted in her musing by a thunderclap as a whirlwind deposited quite unceremoniously her husband on a nearby couch and Llagan saw fit to protect Hermione and her by covering them with his wing.

"Just as I promised you, Kind Sir," said Ariel as she formed herself a new avatar. "I have delivered you, straight from the White Albion to the Roof of the World, as fast as lightning! And now, it is time for me to bow and exit the stage, for this sylph needs her rest."

The elemental made another exaggerated bow as her avatar dissolved into nothingness. Ross' eyes immediately fell on a pair of steely blue eyes looking at him. Said eyes were surrounded by white feathers and a very sharp-looking yellow beak… on a head bigger than his own. His gaze followed the feathers, seeing where they gave way to the fur of a white tiger. The elements easily assembled into a very recognizable mythological figure: a griffin. A bull-sized griffin with a silver pectoral.

"Dad!" he heard as Hermione slipped from under the griffin's wing.

The creature lifted its wings, revealing his wife and a silhouette of reddish glowing mist that he guessed to be a ghost of some sort. His observations were cut short by his daughter tackle-hugging him.

"Hermione… super-strength!" he said as he felt his little girl's arms hold him like a vice.

"Oops… sorry, Dad! It's just that it's been a month…"

"I know," he replied while mussing her hair. "I suppose you are our host," he said, looking at the ghost.

"Please call me Khany, Ross. Ariel took more time than I initially planned for… Hermione, can you come with me while Desdemona updates Ross on the latest events? We will fetch some things for this afternoon's discussion."

"Sure."

* * *

"It's mostly to let Mum and Dad talk alone, right?" asked Hermione after they had left the living room.

"In part. I had originally planned to use a certain potion tomorrow morning but as Ross is here, we will use it now. Thankfully, I have enough base for three doses…"

She led her down a flight of stairs into a laboratory. The place was somewhere in-between the Hogwarts Potions Classroom and the modern alchemy lab at the Huang Estate. The mix of traditional wizard equipment and decades-old machines and glassware gave a kind of 'steampunk mad scientist' vibe.

"Did you already think about… renovating?" asked Hermione.

"I did but Potions are not my forte. I can follow established recipes with adequate skill but no more. It makes figuring out if newer equipment will be better than what I already own a pain. Those machines are essentially replacements for original Lemurian equipment I was not able to repair."

Khany was looking at a black, metal cauldron where a reddish, glowing potion was simmering. She put a finger to her temple and slowly drew it back, dragging a silvery thread attached to her fingertip that she let fall in the liquid. Hermione frowned. She thought she had read something about it but she couldn't recall it at the moment. Her mind had had to assimilate a lot of information lately and some of the casual reading she had done while in Hogwarts had been fading a little bit as a result.

"This silver thread was a copy of a memory of mine. The wizards normally use this spell in conjunction with a Pensieve, a basin that allows others to see the content of the memory copy. However, Lemurians had another use for it."

"The people who drink the potion will have knowledge of the memory, right? Isn't that dangerous? I mean, how will the person be able to distinguish the transferred memory from his own?"

"Very good," replied Khany with a radiant smile. "Badly done, it can be very dangerous, even drive the user insane and the reason why the wizards probably never bothered with that technology, preferring the safety of Pensieves. We found a safe use, though. Can you guess which one? As a hint, know that it has to do with integrating barbarian sapiens into the Empire."

"Is it possible to transfer not the memory of an event but knowledge? In the example you just told me about, it would have been useful for languages."

"This is indeed the reason we used it. It has its limitations, however. First, the person providing the memory has to be trained in a field the wizards call Occlumency to make sure the knowledge is not contaminated with personal thoughts. Thankfully, as Occlumency has to do with mental shields, it is mandatory learning for the Imperial Family… I'll give you reading material adapted to the Fomorian mind so that you and Desdemona can get started. Second, the old 'use it or lose it' rule applies. The imbiber still has to work to properly assimilate the uploaded knowledge. This is why you will all drink it just before we start talking history… and we will use my native language to do so. In fact, once you have drunk the potion, I don't want to hear English until you leave, apart from the odd case where a Naacal equivalent doesn't exist for a word."

"Naacal?"

"That is what we call ourselves. The old Irish language integrated many words from the Danaean language, including Fomoire, which gave the modern English Fomorian. In Danaean, Fomoire means 'Those from under the world', 'under the world' having to be understood in a similar way as 'Land Down Under'," replied Khany while filling three vials with the potion.

Hermione giggled.

"Sorry, it's just that Mum often talked about moving to Australia. She didn't know it was a 'back to the roots' thing."

"Even truer as our family lands used to be near the present-day city of Darwin," replied Khany with a smile.

* * *

They were sitting again on the couches; the griffin having excused himself. The three Grangers looked a little bit at each other while they held their vial of silvery potion. Hermione was the first to drink and her parents soon followed.

"Good," said Khany in Naacal. "While I am glad to hear that Desdemona agreed to go through the change, the understanding of our language is fundamental to the ceremony we will hold. This little history lesson will allow us to anchor that knowledge in your memories for good. This morning, we stopped at a time where our ancestors discovered two other species that had been touched by a Starstone: The Krakens and the Danaeans.

"With the Krakens, things were ironically simple. While being completely alien to each other for some things, this strangeness also ensured we would be good neighbors. Our native environments were too different for us to covet the other's territory. We had a similar interest in cattle raising, even if it applied to different species. Respecting each other was easy and we traded goods and ideas without problem on defined neutral ground.

"When the Krakens told us about the Danaeans, we were excited. They were like us part of the _homo_ genus and we thought we would have a lot in common. We quickly lost our illusions on the matter. While we were physically similar, their culture was vastly different from ours. The sailor thing is something we understood. Their civilization was based on an island half the size of Great Britain in the middle of the Atlantic. Ships were a necessity for them. What we did not understand however were the Danaeans' relationship with sapiens.

"For us… we already discussed a lot about this but as Ross wasn't there this morning, let's say that the science fiction concept of 'uplift' is a central part of our culture. You probably heard stories about how we created new species like the succubus. At that time, though, we had not gone further than selective breeding… and yes, it meant sapiens too in some cases."

"Ross," said Desdemona as she saw her husband tense. "Stargate and Planet of the Apes."

Ross nodded, seeing the parallels between the situation in those movies and the one he had been just told about. At that point, homo sapiens was just a barbarian species with stone tools. An inherently magical people with superhuman strength had to be something like gods or demons.

"In part," continued Khany. "On average, we were far gentler masters than the aliens in that movie. The Danaeans however had a different way to handle the question of the sapiens. Apart from some trading posts, no sapiens were allowed on Danaean land, under penalty of death. Even for us and the Krakens, it took a long time before we could go further inside Danaean territory than a few of the colonies. There was a deep-rooted mistrust of strangers in the Danaeans of that time.

"It is when we first heard the name of the Dragon Lords… while this is indeed how we used to call them, I dislike that expression. It is in fact similar to what Tolkien did when he spoke about the Horse Lords of Rohan."

"So, they were a different species riding dragons, not dragons themselves," said Hermione.

"Yes. I will use a more modern term for them, one that comes with appropriately nasty baggage: Reptoid."

"Isn't that some kind of conspiracy theory craziness?" asked Ross.

"If only… I suspect that some old documents were found, maybe from the same source Robert E. Howard used as an inspiration for King Kull's stories. The wizards have more and more difficulties handling cases where the lore is obscure even in wizarding society. Ironically, their interventions have created a myth of their own: the one of the Men in Black…"

"So, they were shape-shifting reptilian creatures with a thing for world domination?" asked Ross who knew Howard's stories very well.

"Definitely. The Danaeans had stories of demons that could take a loved one's appearance and their foundation myth told how their Shaman Queen Dana led them over the sea to escape them. We did not immediately understand that those stories were a reflection of the events of the Danaeans' primitive past…"

Khany continued to talk, once again using fire illusions to illustrate her point. The attack of the Reptoids had been swift, with dragon flights raiding from the North of the Empire while several lords and ladies were assassinated by shapeshifting infiltrators. The first shock was terrible and the Fomorians, knowing they had little by way of an army, did the only thing they could: they traded space for time. Thankfully, the Krakens came to their aid using their mastery of weather magic to unleash a terrible monsoon that slowed the dragons.

In the south, the Empire rushed, arming full legions for the first time in its history. The Fomorians knew how to fight but they had never waged a real war. They learned quickly and with them the sapiens learnt as well, making great use of their species' abilities to improvise and fight as organized groups. Yet, it wasn't enough, not enough to win. Thankfully, in the rear lines, the sorcerers worked overtime to give new weapons to the Empire.

Kel-Atra Silverhair was the first great success in that area. A frail girl, far too weak to fight but willing to do her part to protect her country went through an experimental augmentation treatment. She became the first of the Blood Knights, the first vampire. The Blood Hunters, the werewolves, followed soon after with Jimanto Blackmane. Finally, a third augmented sapiens appeared: The Snow Maidens, made by bounding some water and air spirit essence to a sapiens. They would support the troops when the fight would be taken over the mountains, into the glaciers where the Dragon Lords seemed to come from.

They were not the only species created. Other, non-humanoid ones, completed the Empire's arsenal. The Griffins were the most well-known but others like the mooncalf were also a result of the war's military research. The modern version of the latter seemed harmless enough but the Fomorians had found a way to harness its tendency to create geometric patterns with some degree of intrinsic magic during its mating ritual. Specially trained herds were used as smart bombs and saboteurs, drawing ritual circles and firing them.

It was then that the greatest treason in Fomorian history – at least until Balor and Bress' conspiracy – was perpetrated. Imperial historians had debated for decades about what pushed Merar of House Ragala to sell the battle plans to the Reptoids, causing the loss of a whole army. Only the heroic sacrifice of Kel-Atra's vampires, who held the pass of Theebi with the same zeal as Leonidas' Spartans centuries later kept it from being a fatal blow the Empire.

As noble as Kel-Atra's sacrifice had been, Merar's treason had been huge blow to the morale of the Empire. The Emperor decided to make an example that would make any other would-be traitor pause. He condemned him to an eternal torment and had the soul jar ritual performed on him, his spirit forever chained in the bowels of the Imperial Palace. Thankfully, this was also when the Danaeans got over their own fear of their ancient enemy and mobilized.

The alliance of Lemuria, Avalon and Kanaloa pushed back the Reptoids, chasing them to a strange tropical world hidden under the glaciers. It was decided that mercy was not an option, not after they discovered the twisted experiments the Reptoids performed on sapiens and other species. The Fomorians took those of the victims that could be saved and settled them in southern India. They helped them to come to terms with the changes they went through and stabilize their gene pool. The descendants of those survivors became the Naga people.

However, as the Empire healed the wounds of the war, one thing was sure. The Age of Innocence was no more. The Lemurians learned several bitter lessons and the army became a permanent fixture of the Empire. Taboos had been broken and would lead to the creation of other species, like the succubae and the _homo magus_. There was also a nagging doubt. The members of the Alliance were never sure if they had exterminated all the Reptoids.

* * *

"Before we get in, I don't want to hear any jokes about 1-4-9 proportions or the like," said Khany. "Even if it is but a poor replacement for the original House of Stars, this is a holy place and I will not suffer any member of my House committing sacrilege. Ross, another thing for you: you must never come under ten paces of the Starstone. There is a runic circle at that radius. This is not only a matter of respect but of survival for you."

"Radiation?"

"As you seem to like pop culture references, think about what happened to Senator Kelly in the X-Men movie."

Ross nodded, gulping. In that movie, the mutant-hating senator had been changed into a mutant by Magneto using an experimental machine. The problem was that the mutation wasn't stable and finally killed him. Ross had no desire to test that himself, even if the Starstone seemed to have played a role in the creation of species like the vampires. From what little he knew; the Fomorians had probably been the lucky few to survive the change when it fell from the sky and doused their whole origin region in magical radiation.

Khany opened the doors, revealing a thirty-meter radius domed room whose dark basalt ceiling was literally constellated with shining gemstones. The constellations they drew were unfamiliar but the Grangers guessed that they represented the night sky of a distant past. In the center of the room, a roughly spherical stone the size of a small car was floating above a white marble platform, letting an ominous purple light pour through the multiple cracks on its grey, ferrous surface.

Ross easily saw the circle Khany had told him about and also noted another, smaller runic circle far nearer to the Stone and the three triangles next to it. He had been told what would happen. His wife would kneel in the circle facing the Starstone while Khany and Hermione would officiate from the two triangles behind her. He took his wife's hand.

"Honey… you're really sure?" he asked.

"Yes. Even more now. I have a feeling… I just know that we're needed."

"You… right, not here," he said, quashing a joke that included a catsuit and a bowler hat. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He looked at Khany who was repeating the instructions to Hermione one last time and fidgeted nervously as they reached their respective places. Desdemona removed her conjured bathrobe, letting it vanish back into nothingness and kneeled in the circle.

"Guardian Spirits of House Ra-Mu, I call you!" said Khany. "Ariel of the Wind, Anael of the Flame, Suriel of the Wave, Raguel of the Stone and Azrael of the Void!"

One by one, as they were called upon, five shapes materialized evenly spaced at the limits of the outer circle. Ariel was easily recognizable after his recent experience. Anael was a flaming, feminine shape that made him think of the Hawaiian goddess Pele while Suriel was an ever-changing, rolling mass of water with two eyes of sapphire light. Raguel had a muscular, masculine torso with a bald head, its legs replaced by a rocky, conical pillar, all formed of the same dark basalt of the ceiling and its eyes made of hard diamonds. Finally, Azrael was… Ross couldn't say he was that surprised to see him as a black winged angel in a dark hooded robe that just seemed to suck in light.

"I bring before you Desdemona and Hermione, my descendants."

"We recognize Hermione, Princess of House Ra-Mu," said Azrael who stood just behind the three women. "But to recognize Desdemona, she must be cleansed."

"She must be cleansed," chorused the four other spirits.

"Desdemona, is it your wish to take your rightful place in the House? Do you renounce this sapiens guise you lived under?" asked Khany.

"I do. May my blood be cleansed."

Ross knew that it had cost his wife a lot to say those words. She was pretty much renouncing her mother by doing so. He was suddenly transfixed as the spirits started to sing a strange, atonal chant. He could now see the purple light of the Starstone spiraling, as if guided by Khany and the five spirits. He clenched his fists as Hermione did her part, as the only living, full-blooded Fomorian in the room. Having changed the Rod into a dagger, she slashed her palms and let her 'precious water' flow inside the Starstone's light.

Desdemona screamed as the spiral of light crashed on her. She arched her back as dark tattoos spread on her skin. They were the manifestation of the blood seal, from what he had been told. Suddenly, the tattoos shattered and their fragments were washed away by the Starstone. He heard her scream become a roar as half-foot long horns sprouted out of her skull. He was also sure that she had gotten taller while signs of age had faded away, leaving her in the body a forty-something Fomorian would have: that of a young adult.

He saw her grit her teeth. He could see that she wanted to collapse and faint but something was pushing her to resist. Instead, she was rising and standing defiantly. Yes, he understood. His wife was as much a fantasy fan as himself, though her tastes went to Zelazny's writings rather than Moorcock's.

 _She's channeling Corwin, when he refused to show weakness after going through the Pattern in the first book. Oooh boy! If she's taking Amber's royal family as a role model for being a good princess… the wizarding world is in for a hell of a ride._

He saw the five spirits bow, acknowledging her pride as his wife's three eyes glowed with golden light.

"We recognize Desdemona, Princess of House Ra-Mu," they chorused.


	9. Spring Festivals (part III)

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. Your opinions are always welcome._

 _I have to give a bit of warning about this chapter. J.K. Rowling has, for understandable reasons, made a point of leaving religion out of her stories. Given how much magic and religion have been intertwined in history that point has always irked me._

 _For example, in the HP world, you would likely have found wizards among the Egyptian priests for which magic was an intrinsic part of the religious ritual. In the Incan and Aztec empires, it is likely that wizards would also have been priests and this raises question about what happened with Cortes and Pizarro. Also, what does the Vatican know about magic and does it deal with it? We can come up with that kind of questions quite quickly. Given the way I build my crossovers, these are topics I will say some words about._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

Ross wanted nothing more than hold his wife in his arms but he just clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. The ceremony that changed Desdemona into a Fomorian was completed but she and Hermione were still both inside the circle delimiting the safe zone around the Starstone. He had to wait and just watched as Khany dismissed the Five Guardian Spirits, telling them to resume their duties, and conjured another bathrobe for Desdemona.

As she approached, he noticed how different the transformation had made her. The most evident thing was her size. She was now around six and a half feet, which he now realized to be similar to Khany's height. Given that Mikogami was even taller, he guessed that this was normal for Fomorians and maybe related to how some legends described them as giants, compared to smaller sapiens that is. The transformation also seemed to have sped up the effects of Tiantian's training. He remembered the comments she had made the day they watched Terminator 2 and about how much she envied Linda Hamilton's fitness in the movie. What he was seeing now was definitely going in that direction.

One thing though was worrying him. She looked exhausted, her skin ashen… he understood as she came near him and they exited the room silently. It was as if her skin was flaking after a massive sunburn. He could guess why. The transformation didn't extend to the dead cells of the epidermis and they were being replaced. It had happened to Hermione too, but it had taken a full week from what his daughter had told him.

"Are you all right?" he said after they had exited the domed room.

"Tired, but…" she replied, trying to find refuge in his arms.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to refrain from direct contact until we have… freshened up," interrupted Khany.

"Decontamination?" asked Hermione.

"In part. Desdemona will want to get rid of this dead skin too. So, I am going to take you two to my suite so that you can take a good bath… I also realize that Desdemona's clothes won't fit her anymore… of course!" she said, snapping her fingers. "This is an occasion to celebrate and we will do things properly. Ross, I leave you in Azrael's capable hands. Dinner will be a formal affair, to be held in three hours in the main dining room."

He could only nod. He knew Khany's stubborn expression all too well. His wife and daughter had exactly the same one when they were decided about something.

 _And whatever gods they may pray to help the poor sods who stand in their way then…_

He waved them goodbye as Khany marshaled them toward another part of the fortress. Remembering Ariel's antics, he braced himself for an entrance befitting a dark angel.

"It is good to see her so lively," said a serene voice on his right.

Ross felt rather proud of himself for not jumping at the sudden presence. Azrael was standing next to him. He tried not to look at him but the dark void of the being's robe was drawing him in, like light to a moth.

"Have you been with her for long?" he managed to ask.

"Yes… but I see that my shape is unnerving for you, reminding you of how legend made me – not quite without reason, I am afraid – the Angel of Death. Let me then take an appearance that should suit your culture more and remind you of my role within your House."

The shadows melted, compacted in some places and expanded in others as the dark angel morphed into a portly, grey-haired Caucasian man dressed in dark clothes. Ross just knew that he had already seen this man, or rather this actor. When he put together the man's very bushy eyebrows and the dark red stains on his lips, he knew.

"Thufir Hawat in the Lynch version of Dune… Mentat and Master of Assassins of House Atreides."

"This is a relatively recent development," he replied while inviting him to follow him through the halls. "As you can imagine, the title of Imperial Spymaster was as much a political posting as the one of the CIA director back in the old days. Given the circumstances of her imprisonment, Mistress Runhael preferred to rely more on us Spirits in this era."

"Ru… yes, that thing about private and public names. I'm afraid I'm lacking the latter if I understood how the naming convention works correctly… relying more on Spirits. Isn't that dangerous? By essence, you are different from us creatures of flesh and blood and there must be some things…" he replied while thoughts stormed through his mind.

Azrael stopped his walk and turned around to look at him, a strange smile on the lips.

"Yes, it is not without drawbacks as the concerns of corporeal beings can be sometimes alien to us. As for the name issue… public names are similar to the Roman cognomen and can be related to a physical or character trait, a deed done by the person, etc. Kel-Atra, for example, was given the public name Silverhair for the same reason a redhead may be nicknamed 'ginger'. As for Runhael, it is a reference to an old Lemurian poem written in an archaic dialect. It roughly means 'harbinger of dawn' and it was given to the Empress by a columnist who was one of the staunchest supporters of her vision for Lemuria."

 _Better to choose something before I end up with a bad pun in the time-honored tradition of aviator callsigns. Think Ross, you need a goddamned superhero codename!_

He quickly went through the superhero names he knew, particularly those who had no superpowers. Of course, he did not have the technical genius of Tony Stark and he doubted that he would stumble on a pair of nega-bands… He ran through his mind some things said during the afternoon and little details he had noticed about the fortress' installations. There was a fundamental difference between this place and a wizarding home or rather between wizarding and Lemurian artefacts.

"I have a question about the sapiens who lived among the Fomorians. From what I know of wizard artefacts, most of them suppose that the user is magically active or even need a wand for activation."

"Yes, this is a voluntary design flaw. Initially, it was a consequence of the Statute of Secrecy but the Goblin Rebellions and the Blood Purity ideology also played a role. I think you can guess why."

"Yes, it helped to enforce the separation policy between sapiens and magi," he replied, deciding to use Khany's names for the two species from now on. "Incidentally, it also plays a role in how muggleborns become estranged from their sapiens families, like simply with how you need a wand to access Diagon Alley. But, in Lemuria, sapiens were a part of a magical society. Your artefacts must take that into account."

"Indeed. The activation methods vary: buttons, command words, etc., but apart from spellcasting aids such as wands, all our artefacts can be used by sapiens."

"Did you create tools allowing a sapiens to create his own artefacts?"

"They existed but they were far from perfect. While they allowed a sapiens to do the groundwork, a full-fledged sorcerer was still needed for the final touches. The appearance of the magi put a damper on research to refine them. Efforts were redirected to find ways to uplift all the Empire's sapiens without having to slaughter an equivalent number of magically active beings," replied the spirit as he opened a door. "I think that you will find this place to your liking."

Ross smiled as he noticed stacks of books beyond the door.

* * *

Desdemona sighed of contentment as she lowered herself into the hot bath. Khany had led them into a large room with a hot spring and a breathtaking view of the Himalayas through the large crystal bay. The ghost not being able to partake in their ablutions, she had left them in the care of Anael while she went to 'fetch a few accessories'.

"I'm not an expert on geology but…" started Hermione who was sitting next to her in the hot pool.

"The hot spring is my and Suriel's doing… Young Mistress," interrupted Anael as she 'slid' near the pool.

Desdemona could not help but be fascinated at how the fire elemental moved. It was like seeing a fire spread on a line of spilt petrol. Yet, her flames currently shed only a little heat and she was able to hold a tray full of cosmetics without burning anything.

"Isn't it… I mean, aren't you…"

"While I am glad that you thought about that question, you don't have to worry about it… Mistress," interrupted again the elemental. "It is true that in the ancient times, my tasks would have been different. The Fire Guardian's role was then often to be the instrument of the Imperial Wrath. I am already glad that Mistress Runhael kept me in her service after my failure…"

Desdemona massaged her temples as she linked clues. She remembered how Ariel had said that the Morrigan was the one to seal her. She suspected that the same fate befell the other Guardians, all sealed to prevent them from getting the Imperial family out of the conspirators' hands.

"I noticed that you hesitated about what to call us," said Hermione who had probably felt how sensitive the topic of their own imprisonment could be for the Guardians.

"I am sorry, Young Mistress, but I am only a servant and it would not be proper for me to use your private name. As for Granger, it is your father's House name which also makes it inappropriate… I hope you will soon choose a public name for yourself, it will make things less awkward."

A nod this time as other bits of what Khany said came together, as well as the impression that when Anael said 'Young Mistress' in Naacal, it somehow felt incomplete, maybe even a little rude. She now understood that it was because the public name was missing in the sentence. Lemurian public names may be a kind of nickname but if she had to compare it to English, their usage was more akin to the family name.

 _Yes. Ariel didn't have that problem when we first met her because she was speaking English. In Naacal, she would have used Mistress Runhael too. I need to find something… I know: that little project I had been gathering some info about… I will also somehow need to find a way to send big 'thank you' cards to several fantasy authors,_ thought Desdemona.

"Anael, this is nowhere near a definitive choice but you can use 'Tarot' for me. This is related to a project I will now be able to do practical work on regarding a magical focus. In the same spirit…"

"Blackstaff, I read those Forgotten Realms novels too, okaasan," cut in Hermione. "And yes, I used okaasan because there is no polite way to call you 'mother' in Naacal and Khany didn't say anything about using Japanese… and that was so Slytherin of me to game the system that way," she added with a sigh.

"My dear Hermione," said Khany as she entered the room, "cunning is an essential trait in politics, something you will have to deal with as a princess."

"I know… Ojiisan has me doing essays on Musashi and Sun Zi. The latter does not exactly believe in a fair fight."

"Anael, add three copies of Ar-Edzi's Analects to the texts I ordered for Hermione and Desdemona," replied Khany with a hand sign toward the elemental.

"It will be done, Mistress Runhael."

"Thank you. Hermione, make sure to give one of them to Tenmei. He may not want to see me yet but I think he will appreciate the gift. It is a major Lemurian text on the art of governance and it will give you a Fomorian point of view on the matter. Regarding Slytherin…"

"Merl… I mean… you were here. You knew Salazar," said Hermione, looking wide-eyed at Khany.

"He and Rowena Ravenclaw were members of the Viridian Veil Society and I spoke with them on a few occasions. Of course, it was using magic mirrors and I was using my 'Mysterious Founder' mask. I always considered him to be a pragmatic man."

"Have you ever heard about the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Hermione, realizing that with the recent revelations, she had temporarily forgotten about the current events at Hogwarts.

"Not that I remember. I suppose something is happening in Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"All right. We will discuss this with Ross and the Guardians after dinner."

* * *

Ross could not help but think about how beautiful his wife and daughter were. When Azrael had brought him a tuxedo a few hours ago, he had at first thought he would be overdressed… until he saw his two princesses enter the dinner hall. He had then quickly made sure that his bow tie was correctly set.

His wife definitely looked like a fantasy princess now. Her floor-length, pleated silk dress was white, held over her right shoulder with a gold and sapphire clasp and leaving her arms bare and held in place by a gold and sapphire belt whose buckle was the eight-rayed sun of House Ra-Mu. Bracers made of delicate vines of gem-encrusted gold snugged around her forearms, probably held in place by magic. On the tip of each of her finger, a golden cap covered the last phalange. Finally, a tiara, similar in style to her bracers, was entwined with her hair and horns, displaying a fortune in diamonds and sapphires among its golden threads.

The dress had emphasized some of the changes his wife had gone through. Her tan… no, her skin tone was darker now, as was her hair. It was something he had more or less expected. In his human shape, Mikogami looked to be on the Caucasian side of Eurasian. If someone met him in the street, he would think Scandinavian, maybe with some Inuit blood. In his Fomorian shape, his skin shifted to a honeyed light brown, more fitting for people that had lived for many generations in a tropical Empire. His wife was the same now and even Hermione was slightly darker-skinned, though no more than the tan she used to reach at the end of the summer vacations.

Clothes-wise, Hermione had opted for a different style that made in his opinion for a very nice 'Heaven and Hell' contrast with her mother. Her form-fitting dress was made of a strange velvet-like black fabric that reflected red depending on how the light fell on her. Her jewelry, all styled in jagged angles was in a finer version of the black alloy the Fomorians used for their weapons, one whose surfaces sparkled like a starry night sky. Instead of a tiara, she had opted for a 'three-quarters' circlet that left her brow free, accounting for her third eye.

He really liked how those reflections played in the strategically placed rubies and diamonds, though he could not help but feel a slight bit of fatherly worry at how 'grown up' his little girl looked in those clothes. He had hoped that he would not have to worry about her dating for a while but seeing her dressed like that, he knew that boys would soon start noticing her… and her new princess status was bound to make things very complicated.

During the multi-course dinner, he had also learnt interesting bits of trivia about the clothes worn by his wife and daughter. Hermione's attire had been a fashion trend appreciated by the Lemurian youth during Khany's reign and it was considered slightly rebellious and linked to the Lemurian Renaissance Khany had tried to trigger. On the other hand, Desdemona's dress was considered classic for an adult member of the Imperial Family. Blue, gold and white symbolized the midday sun and were a reminder of the Lemurian Emperor's position as head of the cult of Mithra… which had let to another interesting bit of trivia about how the Naga and the Succubae transmitted elements of Lemurian religion and culture to the Indo-Aryans.

He had also learnt fascinating things about the clothes themselves, how magic had been used in so many ways to create what a science fiction author would have called smart clothes. The finger caps were a perfect example of this. Those fashion accessories were designed to take care of the magically enhanced sharpness of the Fomorian claws. Shaped as if the nail had been trimmed short, the caps stored a Fomorian's claws in a minute pocket of folded space and had charms allowing for full tactile transmission and guaranteeing they would not come off by accident. Many models existed with various options and degrees of decoration. There were even etiquette rules about which finger caps to wear depending on the circumstances and how some gestures could have social significance. A simple one was that removing his caps – particularly the one of the right index – in public was considered as aggressive as unsheathing a sword.

He took a sip of his fine Darjeeling tea. The dinner had been really good, though maybe a little on the meaty side for his taste, but he had expected that from Fomorian gastronomy. He doubted he would ever like that blood-based beverage he could see his wife savor but, again, Kreshtort had been made by Fomorians for Fomorians.

"Thank you, Hermione. This fills quite a few holes in what my own sources told me," said Khany after Hermione finished recounting the previous school year's events in Hogwarts.

"Didn't you mention that you already knew about Voldemort being back as a wraith?" asked Desdemona.

"Yes. I got reports from Albania about him and enough clues about what happened in Hogwarts that year to guess what happened. Dumbledore was not particularly discreet during the end-of-year feast. In particular, his decision to award those last-minute house points has been resented as a huge case of Gryffindor favoritism by some of your schoolmates. I am not saying you acted wrongly, but that Dumbledore, knowingly or not, has made you some enemies. We will discuss later about how you can turn that situation to your advantage when you are back in Hogwarts… but I digress.

"Right now, the question is what Salazar did. First, you already know that wizarding history has a major revisionism issue. During the early nineteenth century, many accounts were modified to better fit the point of view of the pureblood elite and others labeled as 'dark' and banned. This process has also been observed several times in sapiens history, for example with the particular lighting Victorian historians gave to some events, but the sheer size of the sapiens world usually prevented it from being effective in the long run. By contrast, the small population of the wizarding world made the control of information possible, at least on some topics."

"So, the real Salazar Slytherin was different from what I read of him?" asked Hermione.

"The central point of the story is true: Salazar didn't like the idea of muggleborns in Hogwarts and disagreed with the other founders on that point. What the Blood Purists twisted are his motivations. Back in the tenth century, their ideology didn't even exist. The European wizards had more pressing issues to care about. Their main issue was the trend that started when Constantine made Christianity the state religion of the Roman Empire. The perception of magic changed as the new religion spread and mixed with the authoritarian Roman mindset. While it wasn't the hysteria of the witch hunts, things were noticeably harder for the magical world under Christian rule than in the old polytheistic system. Most of the magical communities emigrated to the periphery of the Catholic lands when they didn't leave altogether… yes, Hermione?"

"Didn't they have notice-me-not charms already?"

"They did but you have noticed in China the issues the magical world has presenting a united front. Too many sanctuaries had fallen to treason or to rivalries between factions and this gets us to the core of the disagreement between the Hogwarts founders. Slytherin and the others had chosen Scotland because it was at the time relatively isolated and the Scot clansmen still respected the old ways. There would be a lot to say about the history of magical education in Europe, but it will suffice for now to understand that a magical school in Europe was something new and that the Hogwarts founders had reasons to be wary of the Catholic Church's reaction. In particular, Salazar feared that muggleborns brought in for learning could be spies and saboteurs. He wanted a more thorough vetting process for them. While the other founders overruled him, his efforts survive today in some bits of the British wizarding law. There is still an old rule allowing 'saving' a magical child from sapiens parents and placing him or her with proper magical guardians."

"We know about that one," said Ross, "and I see how it made sense then. Was Salazar right?"

"Up to a point. From what I know, there were incidents but the others managed to control them. The tensions that would lead to the Crusades had taken part of the pressure off the magical community and Scotland was far away from Rome. In fact, when you look at history, the only time the Church stepped in was about Wallachia and even then, they didn't do it directly but rather helped factions who already had other reasons to get rid of Vlad Tepes.

"To get back to the matter of the Chamber of Secrets, could Salazar have created a kind of last-ditch defense and hidden it in a secret chamber? Definitely. Salazar thought that the other founders were too trusting and idealistic and taking 'supplementary' precautions would have been logical for him. Would he have unleashed it on innocent children just because of their parentage? No. In my discussions with him, the man was interested in the talent and character of a student. The issue he had with muggleborns was the education they received, not their genes."

"Do you have an idea of what is in the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing solid enough but maybe you five do?" said Khany, turning toward the Guardians.

"We could have someone faking the opening of the Chamber to serve his own goals. For example, the braggart Lockhart may want to create the conditions for his next book," said Anael.

"Possible but unlikely," said Suriel. "The Society is already investigating the content of his books at the request of the London Lodge. The clues we have point to the appropriation of another's deeds rather than putting himself at risk."

"Let's work with the hypothesis that the victims were put in that state by something hidden by Salazar inside the chamber and see how it fits with the clues provided by Mistress Blackstaff," said Azrael. "This would mean either an artefact or a creature."

"Agreed," said Suriel. "The Parseltongue heard by the Heir of House Potter is important. We know that Salazar had Naga blood and could speak Parseltongue. Someone muttering about murder in that language shortly before a victim was found would be too much of a coincidence."

"Another interesting point is that despite what happened being called petrification, the victims were not turned into actual stone but rather put in stasis. We can therefore remove the gorgon from our list of suspect beings," said Raguel.

"Salazar's library record from the Society shows that he consulted the notes of Herpo of Alexandria many times," added Azrael who had summoned a thick tome.

"If we consider a reptilian creature… what if the creature did not use its full strength? What if the paralysis was the result of an incomplete attack?" asked Anael.

"A fair idea, my fiery friend," added Ariel. "No spirit, even one as lame as the ghost of a wizard, would have seen his freedom limited by a simple paralysis. It could even be possible that the noble Gryffindor tried to protect the other victim, hoping the attack would not affect him and that both only suffered from half of a more dreadful fate. Wasn't it said that, during an earlier spree, a victim died?"

"Yes. A muted down death effect could indeed lead to that result," said Azrael. "All of this leads to one conclusion."

"A Basilisk," said Raguel, which prompted a nod of the other four Spirits.

"What's a Basilisk?" asked Desdemona.

"In short: a giant snake that can kill with its gaze," said Khany with a snort. "In Lemuria, biomancy masters loved to use them as an example of bad design."

"I suppose this means they were an artificial creature. A Reptoid design?" asked Ross.

"Indeed," said Raguel. "The Basilisk is a biological weapon whose sole purpose is destruction. The Reptoids usually dropped it in an area and let it rampage. Even dead, the creature's body is so toxic that it will stain the area for years. It is sterile, has no place in the natural order and can be put in stasis easily… however, we mustn't be too hasty, as alluring as this hypothesis seems. Two things should be verified in Hogwarts to confirm this. Spiders are highly sensitive to its venom and will flee the area if they catch the merest whiff of it. Also, the Reptoids were never able to remove the beast's main weakness: the song of a rooster will kill it."

"Hagrid said something about a rooster being killed by a wild beast," said Hermione, thoughtful. "It may have been the Heir removing a danger for the creature. I will write Harry about our hypothesis."

* * *

Touhou Fuhai raised his head from his reading as he heard the chime announcing the opening of the courtyard's portal. He quickly registered Hermione's youki on the edge of his perception, accompanied by another with a feeling similar to that of the girl.

"So, it is done," he said softly, getting up.

He had a look at his pocket watch. Yes, given the time zone differences, they still had some time before they had to go back for the New Year's Eve dinner. He left the Society's lounge, packing his book back in the dimensional pocket inside his robes' sleeves, and made his way to the courtyard.

What happened was evident, given what they had guessed about the Founder's identity. He could not help but wonder about the how, though. What he and Mikogami had come up with was the less risky solution they could come up with given their own knowledge and the resources at their disposal. Of course, if the Founder had full access to the knowledge of Lemuria and maybe also artefacts from that era, there was little doubt that she could do better. The mere fragments he had discovered hinted at a knowledge of controlled mutations reserved to comic book characters like Mister Sinister.

It was at times like this that he deplored his ancestors' decision to renounce their heritage. Probably too shocked by the horrors of the Great War between Lemuria and Avalon, they chose to try to return to innocence rather than learn from the mistakes of the past. He could only count on what little he had uncovered from secondary sources, often the ones of the species the Fomorians uplifted like the vampires.

He reached the courtyard and noticed that Ross was present too. The Founder had probably wanted him to be present for this important step in his family's life, which hinted even more at some personal link between her and Tenmei Mikogami. The thought quickly left his mind as he took in Desdemona's new body.

He quashed his inner pervert. As smoking hot as Desdemona's Fomorian body was, now was not the time. Still, he memorized that she had gained several centimeters, the sweet nuance of her honeyed skin and the delicate structure of her horns. Purely for medical reasons, of course. He forced his thoughts to concentrate on how he would adjust her lesson plan. The first thing would be to teach her to discipline her youki and Tiantian's training would help for this too.

"Good morning, sifu," said Hermione, cutting through his thoughts.

"Good morning, you three. First, I want to make clear that I won't mind if you cannot tell me everything. Even if our clans are allies, we all have our secrets."

"Thank you, Uncle Fuhai," said Desdemona. "There are indeed things the Founder asked us to keep secret or that are for my father to decide whether to disclose. However, she thinks the creature in Hogwarts is a Basilisk."

"Troublesome… we will need to be cautious. We do not want its handler to panic and send it on a rampage. We will discuss what to do at home. How do you feel, Desdemona?"

"Rather well… but I will need time to adjust. I tripped several times because of the height difference."

"Sifu, are there some public areas of the Society's Headquarters I could take pictures of? I promised to send some to my friends in Hogwarts."

"Yes, there are but if you want to be in them…"

She nodded and concentrated. She was still far from comfortable with that technique but… her third eye closed and disappeared while the two others shifted back from their natural golden to a more human hazel. Thankfully she didn't have that much to hide and she would manage as long as she didn't get too excited.

"Like this?" she asked, now in her human shape.

"Like that. Let me show you the Mirror of Possibilities. As we still have time, we'll also fill in the forms for your Society membership. It will make things a lot easier if you want to practice summoning in England…"

* * *

Tenmei Mikogami looked at his daughter and he could not help but think about how much she looked like his big sister Syl-Kera. He remembered so many things he had managed to put aside all those centuries… thankfully, Tiantian had understood. She had ushered the four of them into a sitting room and pretty much locked them in with orders to talk things out. She had said that New Year's Eve was the occasion to leave old quarrels in the past so that they could start the New Year with good joss.

 _Joss… old pidgin term meaning something between luck and karma…_

"Khany said to say hello and that you were welcome to go see her anytime, Tenmei," said Desdemona.

He flinched. His daughter had addressed him in perfectly accented Naacal. Using that language meant that she had done more than unseal her blood. She had reclaimed her heritage.

"I guess it will make some things easier," he replied in the same language. "I suppose she told you who she was."

"Yes. Tenmei, I think we both know that our House has a duty regarding the survivors of Lemuria."

"I agree on principle… I founded my school to help put an end to the clan feuds. However, I want you to always remember that Lemuria had aspects that would be unacceptable by today's standards. Among other things, its interior peace was made possible by a rigid, species-based caste system. There was one recent attempt to recreate such a system and it didn't end well."

"You mean Grindelwald, right?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. He was only considering an ayashi/human dichotomy but he didn't understand that the human world was already too big to be absorbed. I also don't have to tell you how the human world evolved in the last fifty years. It is the very reason the solution the wizards found in 1692, better known as the Statute of Secrecy, is becoming obsolete."

"This doesn't mean we cannot learn from the past," replied Desdemona. "It also does not change the responsibility we have as elders of the magical community."

"No, it doesn't change those things… but there are some among the ayashi who see the past through nostalgia-filled eyes. They think that things will magically fix themselves once they have a king… or an Empress. We have to be very cautious if we do not want to be caught in their dream."

"Like Paul Atreides in Dune," said Ross.

"Good comparison. I have so far dodged that bullet thanks to my 'infirmity'," he replied while tapping his brow with his index. "Most of the other ayashi believe I am an Oni, which are relatively common in the Japanese ayashi community."

"What's the Oni's relationship with us?" asked Hermione. "I remember you saying there was one."

"Their creation is a dreadful episode of the Great War, Hermione. From the vampire chronicles I have seen, the Danaeans released a viral berserker curse that affected only Fomorians… our people started to slaughter and rape everything in sight. Finally, the vampires decided to put their former masters out of their misery. Later, a few of the human women who survived the event gave birth to hybrid children and discovered they had integrated a mellower version of the curse in their very soul. Those wretched, cursed creatures are the Onis."

Tenmei looked at his daughter and granddaughter. He had been deliberately blunt and cold to study their reaction to his statement…

"Another test, Tenmei?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. You have chosen to walk on a road where you will see many horrors and you will need to be very diplomatic when dealing with monsters. You cannot let a simple thing such as historical facts, no matter how horrible they are, destabilize you… do you three still intend to go back to Britain in a few months?"

"As much as I would like to keep my family safe," replied Ross, "we have a role to play there."

"Yes. If worse comes to worst… tell Stockton the truth. The vampires will protect you. Just remember that our ancestors designed the vampires to have a hardwired sense of honor instead of a conscience and you will understand their reactions to a given situation a lot better."

"Makes sense for a super-soldier," said Ross.

"True… I will have Eisheth transfer to you my European properties… yes, Desdemona?"

"Khany insisted on giving Ross a traditional dowry for me. It's in the extensible chest we brought back and… there are maybe two cubic meters of gold and jewels… and it was just a drop from her treasury."

"I always wondered who emptied the palace vaults… anyway, open an account with the Hong Kong branch of Gringotts and they will transfer it safely to London. Just indicate Finch and Blackrose as your solicitor and Eisheth can coordinate all that. I will be acting in England soon and try to defuse partially the conflict brewing between the Fae and the wizards. They will never trust the Ministry, but they may agree to support Dumbledore. I will need your help with that during the fall. As for my mother… I already thought a lot about it since yesterday and I promise you to leave the past behind… but I still need time to face her."

"Thank you, Tenmei," said Desdemona.

"Good. I also have a favor to ask you. My friend Akasha has a daughter called Moka. After her mother's death, things have gotten very complicated in her family, the Shuzen vampire clan. For her own security, Moka had to stay with a human friend of mine."

"Can you define 'complicated'?" asked Ross.

"Well… there is no delicate way to put it. As much as I like Issa Shuzen, I never agreed with his conception of marriage. Bigamy… and the gods know how many lovers. Well, it created its share of problems for him. Moka's half-sisters wouldn't do anything to her but Gyokuro, Issa's other wife, is another matter."

"It seems that Moka is in dire need of a normal family life," said Desdemona. "Ross, Hermione?"

"Well… having a sister would be nice. How old is she?" asked the girl while her father nodded to his wife.

"You are the same age. I think I can convince Dumbledore to let her go to Hogwarts. It will be part of the maneuvers I started to repeal the wand ban for non-wizards."

"The Wizengamot will never agree to it," said Ross who remembered discussing the issue with Eisheth, given its implication for Hermione.

"Rules for exemptions already exist, because the Wizengamot cannot deprive foreign dignitaries of their wands. We will use them for Hermione, Desdemona and Moka as they will be, as far as wizarding law is concerned, Japanese ayashi. One issue with this solution is that the Wizengamot could decide to deport you but it will crumble against a fundamental issue of the wizarding laws."

"Which one?" asked Hermione.

"The one Eisheth Blackrose pointed out to Stockton," said Ross. "Wizarding Britain is a group of people without any real territorial claim. Even if all sides seem to have forgotten it, the Wizengamot received its authority from the Crown."

"Exactly," replied Tenmei with a predatory smile.

* * *

Ron Weasley was looking at the pictures Hermione had sent with her last letter. The paper was strange, a little like that of the newspaper and thanks to his father's interest for all things muggle, it wasn't the first time he saw unmoving muggle pictures. What he had difficulties with wrapping his mind around was the content of those pictures.

Some showed some kind of festival. He didn't see the point of the people dancing inside that weird lion costume but it was probably something that made sense in Hong Kong. After all, his brother Bill had written him about the things he had to adapt to while doing his job for Gringotts in Egypt. The pictures of the festival seemed however to have been taken on the muggle side of Hong Kong.

Some showed a big house that she described as the one of her cousins from Hong Kong. He could not help but feel a little jealous. He didn't have the impression that Hermione was that rich but what he was seeing… he wasn't sure if the Malfoys' house was not smaller. However, it might just be her cousins, a little like how some of his own distant relatives – usually purebloods they didn't get along with – were richer.

His big issue was with the last picture. It showed her in front of something, maybe some kind of painting showing a demented landscape of black rocky arches under a purple sky with strange black stars… except something about the painting was wrong. Something that made him think that it wasn't a painting but rather a kind of window.

"What does the letter say?" he asked Harry.

"See for yourself," he said, hinting toward the other people in the Gryffindor common room.

He took the clue. There were things in this letter better not said aloud.

 _Dear Harry and Ron,_

 _Sorry for being a little late on this letter. I left for a field trip with sifu a few hours after receiving it. We went to the headquarters of the Viridian Veil Society in Kathmandu. I needed to register with them because I'm learning summoning and Society membership means I can do it legally in Britain. Sifu took the picture of me in front of that strange landscape in the Society's Headquarters. No, this is not a painting but an artefact called the Mirror of Possibilities. It shows other dimensions. It's so exciting to know that soon I will go there!_

 _Ron, I want you to know that I am not mad at you. Lavender's reaction was something I more or less expected once she realized that my trunk was gone. Regarding Malfoy now, I agree that it is more worrying but it may just be Sifu's reputation. I will deal with it when I am back next fall._

 _Yes, I will unfortunately not be back before that. There are complications that have to do with my family on my Mum's side and we have to deal with them. Don't worry, I will continue to write, of course, though I may sometimes be unreachable because of field trips… in very remote places._

 _Regarding the Chamber of Secrets, we have reached a conclusion. Harry, I want you to go to Dumbledore and give him the second page of this letter, which summarizes all the clues gathered and our interpretation of them. Harry, the creature likely responsible for this is_ _ **BAD.**_ _Our only luck in all that is that the Heir has not decided to let it free… yet. Should this happen: flee and convince everybody else to do the same. If you don't have a choice (and I'm only telling this because of last year), you will find a list of the creature's characteristics, known weak points and the like on page three. Memorize it. Your life may depend on it._

 _Take care_

 _Hermione_


	10. Interlude: Honor and Corruption

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite._

 _I always like to read what you have to say about my stories, good or bad. This chapter was difficult to write and I hope you will like it. I took a few controversial decisions in it and I would be glad to hear what you think of it. The most important ones are plot driven and will be described in the scenes below._

 _Another one is actually cosmetic and is one that can pop up every time one crosses a manga with something else. It concerns anime hair colors and it can be a touchy subject, so I will describe my reasoning for this decision. As you probably know, some anime and manga will use outlandish hair color as a way to help the reader / viewer distinguish the characters. It is not mentioned as anything special or even mentioned at all._

 _Rosario+Vampire does that for a few of its characters, including Moka Akashiya (who has pink or white/silver hair depending on her seal's status), Kurumu Kurono (light blue hair) and her mother Ageha (light blue hair too). While some may think it intentional given that they are ayashi, one quote in chapter 2 of the manga goes against that. Kurumu mentions that Moka's human form has brown hair instead of the pink she has in colored drawings and the anime._

 _In this story, I decided that anime hair colors in human shape had to go. The human shapes of the Yokai were created to allow them to pass as humans, which makes pink or light blue hair counterproductive. The basic rule I followed is that human shapes will have a tendency to match one of the common ethnicities of the place the ayashi are living in or the ones of the place they're supposed to hail from. All this to say that, in this story, Moka's sealed shape has brown hair (her human shape being technically half-Romanian and half-Japanese) and Kurumu and her mother are raven-haired in human shape._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, looked at her reflection in the mirror. Ten years ago, if someone had told her that she would one day wear those kind of clothes… she would have hexed the person just for daring to make the suggestion. Right now, she loved how the white power suit and high heels married with her platinum blond hair and lithe body. She had worked hard on that last point, after one of her first outings with Ageha made her feel fatter than a cow.

 _Who did Kurumu-chan say that I looked like? Yes, that Emma Frost woman in one of her stories. A pity I have to glamour it at home… no, it's not like I would let Lucius touch me again anyway. He doesn't deserve any of this,_ she thought as she applied some light, pale blue lipstick Kurumu had gifted her and posed with her hands on her hips in front of the mirror.

She looked about the room she was in: sharp angles, chromed metal, and white leather in a refurbished industrial loft. The place was completely alien by wizard standards, just as she had wanted it to be. This place helped her to switch between the two persons she now was. At first, the woman in the white power suit had been the mask, the one she donned while pinching her nose, to abide by the conditions of the pact she had made with Ageha. Now, ten years later… well, she guessed that she was thoroughly corrupted, because the mask and the truth had switched places.

Now, she hated the dull life of a proper pureblood wife. She hated the world she grew up in. When she looked at it, she didn't see honor and tradition anymore. All she saw was the fabrication of a few old men who panicked when Europe started to go through the Industrial Revolution, old men who decided that isolation and stagnation were better than having to face the new world the muggles were building. Sure, sometimes one muggleborn or another managed to get something through, like the Wireless or the Knight Bus… but everything was delayed by decades and made 'more magical' to better appeal to wizards… which often stripped the item of the common sense the muggles had put in their version. The Knight Bus was a perfect example of that.

She wanted nothing more than to stop that masquerade, to tell Lucius it was over… but there was just too much at stake. All she could afford were those breathers when her husband was too busy with something. Thankfully, she had managed to sway the family house elf to her side. Things would be a lot harder for Draco and her without Dobby's complicity.

 _Like sending that indirect warning to the Potter boy… a pity I still don't know exactly what Lucius is plotting, but the goal is evident: remove Dumbledore from Hogwarts. And now that thing with the Granger girls complicates everything…_

She went to the loft's safe and put her hand on the panel, feeling a slight tickle as the system verified her identity. This safe was in itself a symbol of how out of touch with reality wizards were. It was a Goblin creation marrying the finest Goblin crafting magic with the latest muggle technology. Few British wizards would have understood the implications of such an item. It meant that if the wizards managed to piss off the Goblins enough to trigger a new rebellion, they would not face axes, but techno-magical weapons.

 _They grew while we waned… but weapons are just toys compared to the Goblins' real might. They control the wizarding economy because our ancestors stupidly thought they could take their gold back by force if needed… but I have to be fair. It was the eighteenth century and everybody's ideas on international trade were still in their infancy. If someone had told them that the equivalent of billions of Galleons would be exchanged every day, sometimes at a rate of several millions per second, they would have just laughed. Who could have thought that the Goblin Nation would become a corporate republic with Gringotts as one of its many fronts? If the Ministry tries anything, Gringotts will just close its office in England, freeze all British wizard assets under its control and only give them back after taking enough in 'fines' from them to strangle us. The truth is that switching to the pound and relying on the muggle financial system is the only sane choice to get rid of the noose most wizards don't even realize is around their neck… but enough ranting._

She took the ring – a diamond on a silver band – in the safe and put it on her right hand, leaving her wand in the safe in its stead. European wizards rarely considered foci other than wands, another sign of decadence in her opinion. Ageha had stressed how, in that Japanese magical school she studied in, spellcasting classes taught the pros and cons of each type of focus. Compared to wands, rings had an accuracy issue for anything requiring aim but they were far better for self-enhancement spell due to the constant contact with the caster's body. They also had a major advantage that made them a popular focus among American wizards: discretion. When you had to mingle with Muggles, carrying and using a wand could easily become problematic. A ring could generate comments about taste depending on its style, but was otherwise just an ornament.

She smiled slightly, remembering that she had promised Kurumu to see if she could find a way to pull off that 'diamond body' transfiguration Emma Frost was capable of. It was no simple matter. Human transfiguration needed a lot of care because messing up could become lethal and non-living shapes were even more dangerous. But she was a Black and her family had a knack for shapechanging, a fact proven by the regular occurrence of Metamorphmagi in the family. Thanks to Ageha, she even knew why it was so.

 _Another lie: the 'Toujours Pur' family motto was coined in 1823, at the same time the Sacred Twenty-Eight myth was built, which is the real reason why the family tree tapestry was 'reset' to not display members before Licorus Black. Before that… 'Potestas per Diversitatem' implies a very different point of view, as does the fact the Blacks are a magical branch of House Basarab that settled in England after the fall of Wallachia. Gosh… when I think about how much Sirius looks like this old portrait of Vlad Tepes in the Grimmauld Place house's attic…_

She left her loft, putting on a white leather trench-coat to complete her costume. She felt like walking, like feeling the streets around her and maybe turning a few heads in her wake. Her 'Slayer' high heels – she still wondered why that magical shoemaker from Los Angeles had given them that name – had been enchanted to be both more comfortable than slippers and easier to walk in on all kind of terrain than a pair of trekking shoes anyway. The shoemaker had even guaranteed her that the spiked heel could stab through dragonhide boots if need be.

Narcissa remembered how it had all started. Shortly after Voldemort's demise, the Black family had been in turmoil. The conflict had cost many members of both light and dark families and the Blacks had been no exception. In fact, there had been only two male Blacks alive at that time: her father Cygnus and her cousin Sirius, and the latter was in Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew. Shortly after that, things had gotten worse. Her aunt Walburga had been found dead, having messed up one time too many with the cursed artefacts that collected dust in the Black ancestral home on Grimmauld Place. A mere month later, her father met his demise in a duel after insulting the ancestry of an African wizard.

As her own sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda, were respectively in Azkaban and disowned, Narcissa had logically tried to claim the Black Estate. Her son Draco could become the new Lord Black… but it was then that she had realized that Sirius… Sirius the prankster, Sirius the Gryffindor, her goody-two-shoes cousin, had outsmarted them all. First, there had been the fact that Orion, while he had let Walburga vent publicly about having cast out her honorless son, had actually never filed Sirius' expulsion with the Ministry and Gringotts. The old snake had probably realized that there were too few Black sons still alive and that it was better to keep the family's options open.

Still, even if that made Sirius the family head, she had ways to declare him unfit thanks to his imprisonment… and that was when she stumbled upon years of creative misfiling that had hidden the fact that her cousin was married and had a daughter the same age as her Draco. Digging deeper… she had no proof but there were tiny hints, things that started to make sense if you let paranoia guide you. If her hunches were correct, Sirius' marriage had been the final phase of a plan carried out over four decades to place the House of Black under the control of a Japanese influence agent: Ageha Black née Kurono, Yokai Academy graduate.

Being a true Slytherin, Narcissa had whistled in appreciation. She remembered how Horace Slughorn, the Slytherin House Head during her stay in Hogwarts, had often cited the Dark Lord Mikogami as an example to follow for all Slytherins. When you knew that said Dark Lord was the Headmaster of the Yokai Academy… well, thinking that he could use his school as a recruitment and training center for his own agents was not that far-fetched.

 _And meeting Ageha, actually becoming friend with my newest in-law, changed everything… looks like there is a lot of people tonight… right, Valentine's Day and it's Friday._

She didn't really look at the line standing in front of the club's entrance but she enjoyed the gazes on her body as she cut to the VIP side of the line. She knew that her old self would have feel ashamed, protesting that she was not that kind of witch. The new and improved Narcissa didn't mind having one-night-stands once in a while. It wasn't like Lucius was faithful either anyway.

"Konbanwa, Black-sama," said the bouncer with a bow, just before he opened the door for her.

She bowed back, more of a little nod to acknowledge a faithful servant than anything else. She was still far from mastering all the intricacies of Japanese etiquette but thankfully her cousin's employees – or maybe vassals, as the Kurono-kai was rather a kind of 'chivalrous organization' than a regular commercial company – were not too formal.

Narcissa went right through the inside security control where the young people going to the dance floor had their hand stamped. She could have taken the office entrance on the rear side of the building, but she took pleasure in feeling the crowd acknowledge her importance… and her beauty. She aimed for a door next to the bar, nodding again in reply to the bow of the guard posted here.

A short climb later, she arrived in a large room furbished as an office and sitting room combination. There were large windows on one side, with a view of the dance floor below. Narcissa knew from experience that the windows were one-way mirrors mainly constituted of a new Goblin metal called transparent aluminum. While not as good as the famed Goblin Silver, it was a lot easier to produce and already good enough to stop a _Bombarda Maxima_ spell.

Her cousin was there, working at her desk. Ageha was a statuesque Japanese woman with an impressive bosom and shoulder-length light blue hair. Narcissa could see that her cousin was irritated by the way her tail spade was wiggling under the desk and how her bat wings almost fluttered. The discovery that her newest in-law was a succubus had been a shock, but some old laws enacted by dirty old men in the Wizengamot had been adroitly exploited and she had understood it was checkmate. The problem was that agreeing or not to such a union was the family head's responsibility. Nobody in the Wizengamot wanted the Ministry looking too closely at 'internal family affairs'. Nobody had thought about the situation the Blacks were in.

"Good evening A-chan," said Narcissa as she sat in the armchair in front of the desk, crossing her legs with a calculated slowness. "Anything I should know about?"

"Eleven years ago, Sirius and I both made a terrible mistake," replied the succubus as she closed a Finch & Blackrose file marked 'Grunnings'. "I'm wondering how to correct it."

"How can I help?"

"I won't ask you to act on it. It would be far too risky at this point of the game."

"But you can still tell me about it and maybe I can help make your plan more cunning, dear cousin."

"In short, I believed Dumbledore when he said he was keeping Harry safe. The human relatives he set the kid with hate magic… I think you can guess the rest."

"I see. Could you use the old guardianship law?"

"Dumbledore can block the attempt by erasing the proof. He already did some 'clean-up' in that area… to prevent Lucius and his associates from learning where Harry was. I need something he will not be able to prevent. Arranging an accident for the Dursleys is tempting but the backfire potential is too high. Also, there is the matter of the wards set on their Privet Drive home. They seem to be dependent on Harry living in a place with his blood relatives."

"Hmm… then we need them to move abroad. That will leave Dumbledore having to choose between letting your godson leave the country or having to live with another family. His face if Harry Potter had to transfer to Durmstrang… but our goal is to get Harry under our control, not further away."

"Yes, and I agree with your idea of forcing a move abroad. I was already thinking about acquiring Vernon Dursley's company. It's losing money badly and convincing enough shareholders to sell to take control will be easy. As for Dursley himself… a recently fired secretary said a few interesting things about the company's book-keeping to one of my boys. Dursley is not stupid – at least when magic is not concerned – and he has to know that a tax audit would get him in trouble. If I offer him a chance to make a clean start somewhere else with an equivalent posting, he's likely to take it… I should be able to arrange something in Brazil. Spun that way, I am saving him and therefore bypassing any 'ill intent' alarm Dumbledore may have set up. Having him concede Harry's guardianship to House Black should be a formality then."

"And if Dumbledore Imperius him?"

"In that case, proof of his use of the Unforgivables will end up on Amelia Bones' desk. This has become a matter of clan honor and I will not settle for anything less than total victory."

Narcissa nodded. She remembered what Ageha had told her. Twenty years ago, freshly graduated from the Yokai Academy, Ageha and her friend slash school rival Tsurara Shirayuki had made the decision to not let themselves be reduced to their respective species' stereotypes. They would win respect and they didn't mind if they had to dirty their hands to do it. Narcissa wasn't sure exactly what her cousin's Yuki Onna friend was doing but she knew the choice Ageha had made: she had joined a world where a determined person could do the work of thirty years in a third of that time. She had become a Yakuza and now controlled a good part of London's nightclubs as the kumicho of the Kurono-kai.

Narcissa was a true Slytherin, even more so since her association with Ageha reminded her of the true roots of her family. She understood the inherent dark part of human nature. She knew that trying to eradicate crime was futile. The balance would always swing back the other way, destructively. In her opinion, controlling crime was far better. Society was kept safer and its dark urges would be channeled in a less destructive way. This was why she had accepted the ritual sake sharing Ageha had offered her. As 'improper' as the world Ageha had shown her was, she understood it and she understood that it meant a far better future for her and her son than being the minions of a psychopath with delusions of immortality.

"Ladies," said a tired man as he entered the office and went to sit in another armchair in front of the desk. "No offense, Ageha, but teaching Kurumu was being particularly daunting today… she was rather obsessed about finding me a date for Valentine's Day. Anyway, she's with Lilith and Arya now."

Ageha had a little smile. The tired wizard was her husband's sworn brother, Remus Lupin. As a cursed werewolf, wizarding society had not been kind to him but he had been too 'Dumbledorized' to easily accept the help of someone as 'dark' as her, particularly when Remus didn't have all the facts concerning the Potters' death and particularly who betrayed them. Two years ago, however, Ageha had finally managed to reach to him. Kurumu was nearing eleven. Given her nature, she was unlikely to be invited to attend Hogwarts so Ageha had decided to hire a tutor to handle the magical part of her education. Ageha offered Remus an honest job that he took thinking that the girl was in no way responsible for her father's sins.

 _Except that in those two years, Kurumu's cheerful nature has eroded his armor of bitterness… better to leave off the topic of Harry for now. I still need some time to destroy the respect he has left for Dumbledore. Him knowing that Pettigrew and not my Sirius was the traitor and actually having a cordial relationship with Cissy-chan is enough for now._

"Remus, you will be happy to know that Angus Nott will not be a problem anymore," said Narcissa who had reached the same conclusion.

"I wouldn't say happy, Cissy," replied the werewolf. "I understand why he had to die and I am relieved that he will not make things more difficult for honest werewolves anymore but… hell, I am happy that justice has been done for those girls."

"Fair enough."

"It's a pity he didn't try to pull that kind of thing in my territory," said Ageha. "My boys do not take kindly to people murdering my customers and we would have spotted him a lot earlier."

"Except that he probably knew it. As much as I dislike my wolf part, I know it gives me an acute sense of when I am intruding on another's predator territory. To give a blunt example, I would rather poke a sleeping dragon than get within two miles of Stockton Manor. What's the word in pureblood circles, Cissy?"

"Not much. He was stricken from the Nott family records since he was infected. Good riddance to bad rubbish would be more like it for most of the 'proper' purebloods. The DMLE is more concerned. I heard they put Moody on the case because of the 'Wanted' posters that appeared in Knockturn Alley two weeks ago."

"Ouch! Ageha, you can expect him to come here."

"It won't be the first time… though with cousin Nymphadora being almost fully trained… I will tell the boys to look out for metamorphs," replied the succubus as she remembered that the senior Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody currently had as a trainee a metamorphmagus of Black descent.

"And if you catch her snooping?" asked Remus.

"Nothing violent, we're family after all… and I don't despair of finally convincing Andromeda to accept my offer to put her back on the clan lists. Now, enough for tonight," said Ageha while she got up and shifted to her human shape, her hair taking that peculiar black hue that reflected blue with the right light. "Let's go party!"

* * *

Severus Snape was grumbling as he walked toward the headmaster's office. He was already no fan of Valentine's Day usually and with the disaster organized by Lockhart, he had hoped to spend a peaceful Friday evening, maybe with some light musing on how he could torment the cad in the following weeks. The man had dared to insinuate that he, Severus Snape, would sink low enough to resort to love potions!

 _Damn him! As if forced love was anything but a bitter illusion!_

He went through his Occlumency routine exercises as he walked, letting the iron mental discipline quell his emotions. This was not a topic he liked to think about. It invariably led him to those same regrets, to the same old mistakes, to torment himself about what he could have done differently to win the love of the only woman that counted for him… the woman his stupidity killed. Thankfully, these thoughts were now back in their little compartments and he would not let them out.

He gave the password to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office and walked briskly up the stairs as soon as they were in place. As he entered the office, he noticed that Dumbledore was nursing a glass of Firewhisky.

"Good evening, Severus. Miss Granger sent this to Harry, with instructions to transmit it to me," said Dumbledore, handing him a sheet of paper.

He first noticed that it was some kind of typewriter paper and the characters looked printed. He read through the neatly organized information and could only approve as he noticed that it wasn't the bloat of minute details Hermione Granger usually inflicted on him in her essays. Things were short and to the point. Presented this way, the hypothesis of a Basilisk being responsible for the petrification made sense and they definitely had to do something about it.

 _Someone has finally managed to pound into her thick skull that… what?_

"She has Lucius under surveillance? How?" he asked, having deciphered some subtext about 'suspicious movements in the Wizengamot'.

"Severus… her grandfather is the Dark Lord Mikogami."

Snape let himself crash into the chair in front of the desk. He knew about Mikogami the Strategist of course. Little was known of the magical abilities of the Japanese Dark Lord but one thing was certain: any true Slytherin considered him a master of the political arts.

"I see you understand the implications," continued Dumbledore.

"Yes. Mikogami is going to look long and hard at Britain. He is going to meddle here. Touhou Fuhai will follow and… the Fae," he said, using a name the Ministry refused to acknowledge but that was heard more and more by those who gave a damn about the non-humans.

"I have reasons to believe it has already started. A few days ago, Angus Nott was found mauled in his home, a broken silver dagger in what was left of his right arm. I suppose you knew the rumors about him."

"I did. He never hid how he considered Muggles. The Fae?"

"Mundungus Fletcher said that 'Wanted, dead or alive' posters appeared in Knockturn Alley. They were taken down quickly enough but two days later, Nott was executed. Unfortunately, the body was not found until the stench became unbearable a week later."

"Bones cannot let it pass."

"She put Alastor on the case. The idea is to try to defuse things before the Wizengamot realizes what happened."

* * *

 _Hogwarts, February 5_

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _Thank you for the warning…. I told Dumbledore about it after last night's dinner and he said he agreed with what you wrote on the clues page. All of it._

 _Bloody hell, Hermione… I didn't realize what you wrote on that page really meant before I gave it to Dumbledore. I saw him lose that twinkle he always has in his eyes. When I asked him why, he had a long, hard look at me and told me that while the Basilisk was bad, what really saddened him was how much you understood of the stakes behind it._

 _Dumbledore then told me that you understood the chess game the Heir is playing with him, using us all as pawns. He told me that the way you had written the clues showed that you knew that the Heir was trying to set up a situation where he could not lose. If things become too bad for him, the Heir just has to let the Basilisk loose and Dumbledore will be removed for being unable to prevent its rampage, maybe even die stopping it. If we do nothing, the small attacks will finally push the Board of Directors to remove Dumbledore._

 _I think he told me that so that I understood his point of view rather than asking you. He said that he was sad that you had to lose your innocence so early… I didn't really understand it then but now… now I am sitting at two a.m. in the common room and writing this letter because I can't sleep. Because I understand now. I understand that for some people, other people just don't matter. They will use them and throw them away like Dudley with his used toys. I understand that being a brave Gryffindor is not enough, that people like the Heir will just factor that in as if it was just a big math exercise and not hesitate one second to kill to solve the 'equation'._

 _I cannot tell Ron. I don't want to tell him. We kids should only have to worry about our grades and things like the next Quidditch match. We shouldn't have to think things like 'I have to sacrifice these if I want to save those'. How do you cope with it, Hermione?_

 _Take care_

 _Harry_

Hermione rubbed her eyes as she finished re-reading Harry's letter. It was a pity that she couldn't phone him… it would help make up for the fact the letter had needed ten days to reach her, thanks to the people in the Glasgow Sanbao offices having to deal with a big contract. On the other hand, it meant that she had a little time to think about a reply… and ask someone for advice.

She activated software whose installation disk had been put in the many books she had brought back from the Himalayas. She typed several codes, checking the random, disposable one from a sheet, and waited for the channel to open, knowing that her request was now transiting through the satellite dish in another area of the estate. A window soon opened on the screen and she made sure that the small camera next to her screen was activated too.

"Hello Khany," she said in Naacal. "Do you have some time to chat?"

"Of course, Hermione," replied the former Empress. "Is something wrong?"

"It's Harry… I would like your advice on how to reply to his last letter."

* * *

Ginny Weasley was humming as she added another component to her potion. She had needed to calm down after the nightmare Gilderoy Lockhart had made of Valentine's Day. Not only had the dwarves dressed as cupids been embarrassing, probably even more for the dwarves themselves, but Lockhart had once more proven that he had the sensitivity of a troll. He had made comments to Snape and Flitwick about love potions and mind control spells that made her want to hex him. So, she had faked a slight tummy ache and gone to her secret garden, where she had spent most of the night, using a decoy to make the girls in her dorm believe she was sleeping under the covers.

She understood Snape a lot better since she had started coming here. Brewing potions was an art and she was getting quite good at it. From what she remembered, her Mum had been very good at it too… until the backwards, rotting wizarding society forced her in the role of a housewitch. Ginny wouldn't let that happen to her. She wouldn't let petty people cage her dreams.

She adjusted a control on the apparatus. She had always found it funny that this place actually had much better equipment than what Professor Snape had… despite the fact it was a thousand years older than the things in the Potion classroom. Here, she just had to run her fingers on the crystal sphere next to the black metal cauldron and let the charms do the stirring according to instructions she could time to the second. The thing was so well-made that even a Muggle could use it. The apparatus was pumping the magic the potion needed directly into the ley lines below the castle without her having to provide anything.

This simplified her life a lot, meaning she didn't have to be here for much of the brewing process. She still had to pretend to be a model student after all. Though, if she had to admit it, she had learnt more during the hours she had managed to spend here than in class, thanks to her very special tutor.

"We will soon run out of _élan vital,_ " she said as she checked the intensity of the bluish radiance of a crystal set on a big, black metal jar, against the scale she had reproduced on a parchment strip.

As she gazed into the crystal, she felt a moment of doubt but it quickly vanished as she saw words form on the pages of the open diary next to her, accompanied by the slight buzz that his presence always did do her. Had she been a little more observant about some things, she might have noticed how restless she got if she didn't feel that buzz for too long, how much the sensation had become a need for her.

"I know, Tom," she said, having read the words "But, don't you find it's a pity we could not use the one of the ghost? He always annoyed me."

She remembered how it had all started. She remembered being a stupid little girl with a stupid crush on Harry Potter. That had been before she found the diary among her second-hand school books. The first time she had written in it, the ink had disappeared and reappeared to form other words, Tom's words. After that, everything changed.

Tom had been nice to her. He listened well and gave good advice, even if he was a little limited, being stuck in that diary like that. He didn't mind about her second-hand robes and books like some of the girls in the Gryffindor dorms. Instead, he called her an uncut diamond, saying that the most beautiful gems started as ugly rocks. He could help to reveal the diamond in her… if she let him. At first, she had hesitated but after a public humiliation dealt by some Slytherin girls led by Pansy Parkinson… she had cried a lot and begged Tom to help her. She had agreed to do everything he said.

First, he had helped her with her grades. Nothing dramatic, he had been very clear about that. A too rapid change and people would guess about him. She didn't want to lose her friend. But she had seen the difference in a mere week. How, if she followed his instructions, she could quickly memorize things, how to approach a problem in new and creative ways. He had taught her how to observe people, see the subtle clues on their face and moves that betrayed a feeling or another. How to find the words that would hurt the most and those that would give her a person's trust. She was still not very good at it but she progressed.

When she had been surprised that some things were so easy, Tom had explained her that she had always been smart. She just didn't know how to use what she had, something he had corrected. He had pointed out that her brothers were all smart too. Charlie, Bill and Percy were all brilliant in their own way, even if Percy let himself too easily be shackled by rules that didn't bring him any advantage. Ron was an excellent chess player but he was too lazy to use his analytical mind for anything else, particularly now that Hermione was not here to push him anymore. As for the twins, had they put half the genius they used for their pranks into academic achievement, they would have been among the first of their class.

Tom had assured her that, in time, she would be such a powerful witch that Harry would notice her, realize she was better even than Hermione. As the weeks passed, however, she had realized that the Harry she met in the Hogwarts halls… well, he was cute but he was too short-tempered, reacting far too much to Malfoy's clumsy provocations. He wasn't that interesting after all, at least not for the smart girl those few weeks under Tom's coaching had made of her. Tom now… he had shown her how he looked in a dream and… yummy.

A few days before Halloween, she had decided to act on her feelings and asked him if there was a way to get him out of the diary, to give him a real body. He had said that it was possible but that she needed to become more powerful if she wanted to help him. She had renewed her promise to do everything he would ask of her. It was then that he had showed her this place and how to get in. He had shown her the Chamber of Secrets.

 _Time for a little break…_

She came out of the lab and stretched a little bit, using those yoga exercises she had found in a book in the Chamber's library. She had several reasons for that. One was that the book she had read on them indicated how they could help to strengthen one's magical core, even though they rather used terms like 'opening the chakras'. Another was that, as short-lived as the dueling club had been, it had showed her the importance of being in good shape. The final one was that… well she doubted that Tom would love her if she became as fat as her mother. So, she exercised, she studied hard all the things he asked her to learn and she took the potions she brewed following his instructions without discussion. She would be a good girl. She would be useful and he would love her. When she had given him a body, she would be his.

In the central hall, she had a look at the huge face carved on the end wall. It was Salazar Slytherin's face but it wasn't what was important. What was important was the space behind it, the place where the Basilisk slept. Tom had shown her where to find Salazar's diaries. Salazar had created the beast as a last-ditch defense in case witch hunters found the school. It had also led her to understand that Malfoy was even more an idiot than she thought, that the Salazar Slytherin people like him believed in had little to do with the real man. The real man was a lot worthier of respect in her opinion.

Of course, it had needed work. Salazar wrote most of his texts in Parseltongue, whose written form used the same script as Sanskrit. She was learning it with Tom's help… though the potions had helped too. Salazar had created those as a way to unlock the special blood some wizards had, in particular members of the Black family like her grandmother Cedrella. The special blood that allowed her to do all these nifty tricks like changing how she looked, something that was becoming easier as the potions did their work.

 _Well, there are some side-effects, but they're not that bad and I can easily change how I look now. Even make myself almost invisible if I don't move too much… but I think I can do better, having the chameleon effect adapt in real time, as Tom says._

As if it reacted to her thoughts about her changes, her tongue flicked past her lips, tasting the air. She had come to enjoy the new world of sensations it had opened her as it became a little more forked with every potion. When her thoughts erred on the naughty side, she wondered what it would be to kiss someone with it.

Her thoughts went back to the Basilisk. Using it was a pain but she didn't have a better solution to harvest the _élan vital_ she needed for Tom's body. It wasn't as if she had killed them anyway. She had even been kind enough to remove the memory of the attack from them… well, to be fair, it was to cover her own tracks as well. The targets she and Tom had chosen were people who annoyed her in one way or another, like Colin Creevey who had seen what he shouldn't have.

No, what was really annoying her was that she had not been able to control the creature herself or do the fine spellwork so far. She had to let Tom drive her body because she didn't have enough experience. If she had to be really honest with herself, the fireworks Tom's presence in her body sent through her brain were good but she had to control herself not to smile stupidly afterwards. It was dangerous and… she had to prove that she could be useful all on her own.

 _But that doesn't mean being a stupid, reckless Gryffindor. A moment of hesitation and the Basilisk will attack everything in sight. I would be discovered and lose Tom._

As she went back to her potion, she had a stray thought of worry about the people the Basilisk would kill in that scenario, but the buzz of Tom's presence quickly banished the distasteful thought. It was just a hypothetical scenario after all. It wouldn't happen if she was smart. For Tom.

 _Time to plan for a new harvest… who's annoyed me lately? Maybe time to paint some of the Slytherin boys as blood traitors and leave evidence. No, I know: Pansy. A few shrunk muggle fashion magazines dropped in her bag, with the spell timed so that they are found by her classmates… I need a sample of her writing… shouldn't be too difficult. Pansy, I'm going to destroy your reputation. You'll be outed as a secret muggle-lover and… who knows, maybe your family will disown you._

* * *

 _Hong Kong, the 15_ _th_ _of February 2003_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I'm writing two letters this time. One more general that you can show to Ron and this one, for your eyes only._

 _I'm so sorry. You are right, kids shouldn't have to think about those things but… Harry, I will be blunt: being kids is a luxury you and I cannot afford anymore._

 _My grandfather is a member of an important family in Japan and an ally of Touhou Fuhai. I may be only thirteen but everything I say or do can have consequences for my clan's reputation. There are already people here in Asia wanting to use me or kill me just because of who my relatives are. As for Europe, there are many people there for whom a muggleborn smarter than them is 'forgetting her place'. It is far easier for these petty men and women to degrade others than to try to better themselves, because doing the latter would mean admitting they did something wrong._

 _You are in a similar situation. As the Boy-Who-Lived… I know that you hate that name and all it stands for but others won't give you any choice in the matter, particularly Voldemort. He cannot afford to ignore you, not if he wants to keep any kind of political significance. You are the symbol of his failure and he has to destroy you. He needs that both to crush the hopes of those who see the Boy-Who-Lived as their savior and to tighten his grip on his own followers._

 _I know, it's horrible and unfair. But if there is one thing that I learned, it's that the world is only as fair as we make it. But you are also right, being a brave Gryffindor is not enough. Our enemies have set the rules of that sick game for decades. You have seen that with what Malfoy and the others can get away with. If we rush in blindly, they'll use that to turn the people against us._

 _One solution could be to flee. You could come to Asia and we could live here but… the more I think about that, the more I see the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill looking at me with disappointment (figuratively, of course). The more I realize that the enemy I must strike down is wizarding society itself. In the end, Voldemort is just a symptom of how sick the wizarding world has become._

 _Will you come with me, Harry? I won't lie to you, it will be a long, hard road paved with blood, toil, tears and sweat to paraphrase Sir Winston. People in the wizarding world will call me dark, call me a monster. I accept this. It's the price I must pay to build a better world._

 _Hermione_

 _PS: this message will self-destruct ten seconds after you finish reading it._

Harry blinked. He had expected a lot of things but… well, if he had to be fair, it was in character for her. The year before, when she prevented Neville from interfering with their attempt to reach the Philosopher's Stone, Ron had called her 'brilliant but scary'. He also remembered a little thing he had understood about Hermione. On the surface, the girl cared a lot about rules – the infamous 'killed – or worse, expelled' she said after their encounter with the Cerberus came to mind – but Harry had come to understand that Hermione Granger had a mental hierarchy for rules. Rules that disagreed with her core principles were irrelevant. Rules that were in the way of a more important objective were suspended until realization of said objective. The whole issue with understanding her was to determine what her inner, ethical hierarchy was.

 _That and the fact that asking people about their opinion is not at the top of it… In a way, it's funny. I doubt I would have seriously thought about all that if she was still here, if I hadn't had to think about what to write her,_ he thought _._

He had a look again at the message. The text had disappeared, its ink reorganized to form notes about some second-year charms, as if he had asked her for help on the matter. Hermione was already going into full 'spy movie' mode. He shuddered as he imagined the relentless girl he knew trying to… no bar that, she would slaughter the Slytherins at that game. He knew that it would take very little for her to set her conscience aside and decide that killing was necessary, all for the Greater Good.

He knew he had reached a decision. He had to go with her. While the wizarding world had been an improvement for him compared to his life in Privet Drive, he also realized that something was wrong when people like Malfoy were the ones with money and influence. He also knew that Hermione would go down that road, with or without him. If he went with her, he could prevent her from becoming too ruthless.

 _But what to do about Ron? Ron's never known anything but the wizarding world. He may not even realize what's wrong with it…_

"It's a letter from Hermione?" asked a voice near him. "Can I read it?"

He looked in the direction of the voice. Lost in his thoughts, he had forgotten that he was in the Gryffindor Common Room. The person who had just talked was Ginny, Ron's little sister. He remembered how shy she had been in the beginning of the school year. He was glad to see that being in Hogwarts seemed to have instilled some confidence in her.

"Sure," he replied, handing her the 'public' letter where Hermione described some more events of the big festival they recently had in Hong Kong.

* * *

 _Something is wrong. Harry has no subtlety and there is no way this… routine letter could have put him in that state,_ thought Ginny as she walked through the halls _._

There was a lot of gossip and speculation running around the school about what happened to Hermione. The solid facts most people knew were that some kind of accident happened on Christmas Day, when she was admitted to the Hospital Wing. After that, she had to leave but didn't go to St. Mungo as would be normal for a patient Madam Pomfrey could not handle herself. No, she had gone abroad and later gossip coming from Lavender had revealed that she was in Hong Kong and Harry was heard telling Malfoy that Hermione was studying with Touhou Fuhai.

That particular name had spread through Hogwarts like Fiendfyre. Malfoy looking like if he had been slapped when he heard that name. The blatant jealousy in the eyes of the senior Ravenclaws, who had seen that name referenced in the Ancient Runes manuals. The letter she got from Bill after she wrote him to ask about that name where he told her that the Gringotts Curse-Breakers considered the man a master with few equals. Hermione had been deemed good enough to study with a man like that.

Without Tom, she would probably have been jealous too. Tom had known how to reassure her. He had not pretended to be as good as the ancient Chinese master, that would have been presumptuous, but he was good and he had reminded her that they had Salazar's library at their disposal in the Chamber. They would work harder and the augmentation potions would ensure that her magical core grew beyond that of any witch. She now firmly considered Hermione to be her main rival and she would prevail.

Still, something was wrong. She knew that Harry was looking for the Heir. Given his and Ron's usual subtlety, evading their attempts had been easy and for most of fall, they had been looking in the wrong direction anyway. Then, after a letter from Hermione, they had started to do things she didn't like. Hermione had obviously discussed the matter with her new master, as the two boys' actions showed a radically different method.

 _I will need to think about a diversion… difficult because I don't know what they know. Spying time then._


	11. Preparations

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite. Your opinions are always welcome._

 _The Mirror Dimension is actually an idea part of the Rosario+Vampire canon, but limited there to a copy of Hong Kong created by Touhou Fuhai. As I took inspiration from the Dr. Strange movie for some other things and given what I'm building with alternate dimensions, I decided to extend it._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer_

 _See Chapter 1_

* * *

"It's good to finally have you here," said Khany. "I mean, not in this particular room, but…"

Tenmei Mikogami nodded as he looked at the rows of recumbent effigies made to the likeness of his father, brother and sisters on each side of the room. This was the place where his family had been slaughtered so long ago, a room Khany and the Guardians had transformed into a crypt. There was just one thing that didn't fit. One corpse had not been put in a sarcophagus but its remarkably intact skeleton was still chained to the far wall. He knew that these were Khany's bones.

"Hermione asked me to think about what I would gain by delaying… and I realized there was no point anymore, not after what they told me of your encounter with them. In fact…"

"As we both will be interacting with them, it would be better to coordinate things a little bit?" she cut in with a smile. "You probably noticed that I kept some details out of the stories I told them about the 'good old times'."

"With the number of books you gave them, they will discover them soon enough… but you are right. It is better for them to discover those details through research, to understand by themselves why our ancestors built their civilization as they did. Had you just told them…"

"They would be tempted to consider that everything Lemurian was evil and should be rejected without considering the good parts… like the sapiens did so many times when encountering other civilizations built by other members of their own species."

"Yes… Did you know that I discussed this same issue with Francis Xavier? It was about Japan and Europe, of course."

"No. The fact you met him is not that surprising, but that you had a cordial conversation…"

"I was in human shape all the time and presented myself as a yamabushi," he replied with a shrug. "As you surely know, horns are not very helpful in gaining the trust of… let's say some Christians. Jesuits though, will rarely miss an opportunity to debate and teach. It was actually thanks to them that I understood how much Yokai Academy was needed."

"True. Why didn't you tell them that you were coming here?"

"I thought better to handle our first meeting in private."

"Sadly, true too. It's really a pity that my current state does not allow me to properly hug my manly son…"

"Do you want me to undo your bonds?" he asked, looking again at the ancient bones in front of him.

"Not yet. My clone still needs two months to properly grow. Destroying the soul jar before I am settled in it would be counterproductive."

"What will you do after that?"

"See the world for a few months. After that, find a way to help with that thing in England."

"Dumbledore will likely need a replacement for Lockhart next fall."

"Too risky. From my research, the rumor about Voldemort cursing the position is correct. It's an old Egyptian curse developed to handle succession issues among the various priesthoods of the time. Back then, the clergy of Wadjet asked for my help in developing a counter-spell. I can remove the one in Hogwarts but there is a catch: the curse cannot be broken by someone under its influence."

"Could Dumbledore do it?"

"According to the information I have, he already knows what to do but he is unwilling to pay the required price. The only way for him to gather enough power to undo a blood curse like this one would be sacrifices. I have other possibilities… and I am not as squeamish as him about putting the death of my enemies to good use."

He nodded, remembering the old Lemurian usages behind that statement. Lemurian culture developed very early habits of using all the parts of a slain animal, which evolved into a general loathing of waste. When you added to this a judiciary system primarily built to protect society and not redeem criminals, it led to things rather difficult to swallow for at least a part of modern humanity. No prison, but fines or a time of slavery enforced by a magical behavior controlling collar for minor things… and a 'useful' execution – like using said criminal as a sacrifice for a ritual – for anything else.

 _Even our funerary rites… this crypt would not exist if our family's situation was not so peculiar. In the old times, bodies were usually turned into fertilizer, or sometimes buried without a coffin under an orchard, in both cases so that they could still help things to grow after their death. Only noble families didn't abide by that rule and disintegrated their members' corpses, to ensure that no necromancer could get their hands on a body part. Thinking about old things…_

"Khany, am I correct to think that you are perhaps the ultimate authority on the history of magic?" he asked, grinning.

"One could say… Oh! Very clever, Tenmei," she replied, returning his grin. "I guess it is time for him to go into… retirement. Mithra knows that students complained often enough about his ineptitude. I will have Azrael organize that. Can your contacts set up a… let's say American wizard identity for me?"

"Of course."

* * *

Ross Granger rubbed his eyes as he went once again through the summary Eisheth Blackrose prepared for him. He should have expected something like that. He remembered when his father-in-law had said that he had enough money for all of them, buying them the plane tickets to Hong Kong as if it was nothing.

"I didn't realize that my father-in-law was that rich," he finally said, putting the summary sheet back on Eisheth's desk. "Though I cannot say I am surprised. He had centuries to hoard resources."

"Mikogami-sama is indeed a shrewd businessman, but, as you can see, he handled things differently than the Huangs."

Ross nodded. He was no business expert but from what he could see, the European holdings of the Mikogami clan were a labyrinthine network of pieces which were often not even aware that they belonged to the same whole. The discretion that came with these arrangements came at a cost, however: a lack of synergy between the pieces which sometimes even competed against each other.

"Ms. Blackrose," said a voice coming from the lawyer's intercom, cutting through his thoughts. "There is a Mister Adrian De Vries with credentials of the Viridian Veil Society at my desk. He said that he is here for the posting of Mentat Mr. Granger advertised for."

"A minute, Amy. Ross?" asked Eisheth.

"I never put such an ad… but the way he presented himself is an allusion to a conversation that had no witness. He's someone I met in Asia and who works for the Society. You can trust him," he replied prudently, preferring to disclose the least possible about Khany and the five Guardian Spirits.

"Clan secret?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough. Amy, you can let him in."

Ross wondered which appearance the Spirit had taken this time. Not the one of the Dark Angel that seemed to be his most common avatar or Amy's reaction would have been far different. Probably not the one of Thufir Hawat or Piter De Vries, the two Mentats of the first Dune novel, either, as it would have meant looking like an actor.

The door opened as a slightly blushing Amy introduced a man in the office. Tall and pale, he had that androgynous beauty he had often seen in Japanese comic books… or in some representations of angels. His hair was black and his eyes a strange shade of blue. As for his clothes… Ross raised a very intrigued eyebrow as he finally recognized the rather old-fashioned black suit and the white gloves. Azrael was dressed like a butler.

"Ms. Blackrose, Sir," said 'Adrian' with a small bow toward Ross. "I apologize for the subterfuge, but the Founder told me about the situation you were in and I volunteered to help."

Ross' mind started to race as he and Eisheth returned his greeting and the void spirit sat on a chair next to him. He knew that Khany shared the same stubborn character as his wife and his daughter. She was very likely to start something without asking for the person's opinion if she thought that it was for said person's own good. In this case, he could guess that Khany had reached the same conclusion that had been nagging him more and more since Christmas: the new situation needed him to think about his family's physical security.

"I am not sure I need a butler, Mr. De Vries," said Ross, deciding to let the spirit have his fun and try to convince him.

"If you decide to hire me, it would not be my only function, Sir, but first, please allow me to talk a little bit about a more innocent age. When your daughter left for Hogwarts, she quickly became a friend of Harry Potter. Had things continued as they then seemed to be, I am sure that you already deduced the risks it would cause in the long term."

"Because of the terrorists following Voldemort," he replied grimly, having thought a lot about the matter since Hermione had come clean with them about the wizarding world.

"Indeed. Oh! I am sure that the Lady Hermione would have kept quite a few things for herself, not wanting to burden you and the Lady Desdemona with it. She may even have been led to believe that some drastic measures were necessary to protect you both, because of that 'Muggles can't understand or do anything' mindset the wizards were teaching her."

He looked at the 'butler'. He understood now why Khany had chosen him as he remembered the way the four other Guardian Spirits behaved. Azrael was the only one of them who could fake being human. It was not only a matter of physical appearance but also of being able to play the part convincingly. Anael for example would never have been able to use his wife's and daughter's private names so casually.

"But things changed… In some ways they are worse, but at least we are aware of the danger and we can face it together. How do you suggest preparing for it?"

"Very perceptive, Sir. In general, I advise celerity. The factions that will oppose you have yet to truly realize that your family is much more than a muggleborn witch and her parents, but we have a few months at most before that changes. One of the most urgent matters is, in my opinion, the one of your residence. Your family house surely was a fine place for two dentists and their daughter. I am afraid that it is less apt to cater to the needs of four members of a Fae Noble House, if I include the Lady Moka into the equation."

"I have to agree," said Eisheth. "You have some practical aspects to consider first. For now, your family's magical activity has not been happening at home, but that will change and you're living in one of those 'decent' suburbs where things that are out of the ordinary are quickly noticed… unless you want to resort to wizard methods?"

"Definitely not," replied Ross with a sigh, "and I can easily imagine the mess if a fight erupts there," he added, thinking about the property damage that usually went with super-battles in comic books.

There was also the matter of Moka to consider. They had a spare room she could use but they also had nosy neighbors and a 'cousin from Japan' would lead to a lot of gossip Moka could do without.

"I took the liberty of scouting some possibilities so that we can gain time," said Azrael. "They fall into two broad categories. One could be to move in the Fae neighborhood of London. Organizations like the Kurono-kai could then contribute to your security."

"Eisheth, Stockton already knows about Hermione being a Fomorian and I bet that us taking Moka in will complicate things. How would he react in your opinion?" asked Ross with a frown.

"Knowing John, he will offer you the services of a vampire 'nanny' who will double as a bodyguard. Modern vampires are normally too prideful to serve anyone but a more powerful vampire, but with your family it doesn't matter: you are royalty to them. Their continuous presence would cause friction with the other clans like the Kurono-kai," replied the succubus with a wince. "Better to choose neutral ground where you can 'hold court'."

Ross gripped his chair's armrests, forcing himself to stay calm. He reminded himself that Eisheth had only hinted at how some of the Fae would consider their Fomorian creators in general and how Moka was pretty much vampire royalty as Akasha Bloodriver's daughter. The issue of course was that his wife and daughter were not just any Fomorian, but members of Lemuria's Imperial House.

"I suppose this is the second broad category you considered?" he asked, turning toward Azrael.

"Thankfully, this kingdom has no shortage of empty manors and castles, both mundane and magical, Sir," replied the dark angel, materializing a manila folder and handing it to Ross. "These are some of the possibilities I considered, with an estimate of the costs."

"Some of these have been empty for a while," he said, skimming through the dossier. "Refurbishing is going to be expensive… I suppose that magic will help?"

"Of course. Contracting the Goblins will probably be the best. They are experts at making such works look mundane to the casual observer. It will also help to foster respect between the Goblin Nation and your House, Sir."

He frowned, remembering the creatures he had seen at Gringotts' but his frown quickly became a small, bemused smile. The more he thought about it, the more probable it became that the Goblins would have acquired the human shape technique used by the Asian yaojing. Omitting to mention that detail to the Ministry was just another part of the con game they played with the wizards.

"I need to discuss those possibilities with my wife… but any of those mean that I will actually need a butler."

"Of course, Sir. To paraphrase a colleague serving another family in a faraway world, you will see that I am one hell of a butler," replied Azrael with a mischievous smile that sent shivers down Ross' spine. "The second matter you need to think about is the one of the various properties and participations your father-in-law transferred to your family. You probably already noticed their peculiar organization. While it will grant your House an interesting income, you will surely agree that you will need more than that in the near future."

"We need power," replied Ross, remembering a discussion where Feihong told him about the political weight the Huangs had through the Sanbao.

"True. Ms. Blackrose, am I wrong to think that Mikogami-sama planned for such a possibility?" asked the spirit.

"No, there is effectively a plan to merge the European assets of the Mikogami clan into an integrated transnational on the model of the yaojing-owned Asian companies," replied the lawyer after a short nod from Ross. "It's kept up to date by my financial department, but it needs at least a year to be fully implemented and the process cannot be stopped without doing a lot of damage once started. There will be some visibility for your family, though its exact amount will depend on how involved you will become in the operations of the new company and how quickly we do it."

"What would happen if I decided to become the CEO?"

"That would be tricky to put in place, but not impossible. There is the matter of your lack of experience, of course, but this can be solved with good advisors. As the plan supposes that Finch and Blackrose becomes the new company's legal department, I would be one of those."

"So, your law firm is somewhere in that list…"

"Mikogami-sama funded us when we started. Even before that, it was thanks to him that I could get the scholarship for my degrees. I am not the only Fae in this situation in the UK."

Ross once again had a vision of his father-in-law sitting behind a chess board and moving sapiens, magi and Fae-faced pieces with inhuman patience.

 _No, not chess. Rather putting dominoes in place. All we need now is to push the first piece…_

"Adrian, you're hired," he said as he took a legal pad and started to write a short letter. "Can you have a copy of the mansion possibilities delivered to my wife with the note I'm writing?"

"Of course, Sir."

* * *

Desdemona was sitting at the desk of her room in the Huang mansion, taking notes as she progressed through some of the ancient Lemurian texts Khany gifted them. Contrary to what some people could have believed given its age and provenance, the book was no forbidden tome of unholy secrets but a copy of one of the former Empress' schoolbooks. For Desdemona, it had the advantage of being tailored for Three-Eyed Fomorians and that it also included a number of simple spellcasting exercises that she could do on her own.

 _What did Khany say? Yes, that the sorcerer who wrote them thought of the noble children who often had to wait in antechambers and made up a method so that they could use that time productively. Many of those exercises could easily be turned into games from what I can see… and speaking of 'seeing'._

She frowned a little bit, concentrating to see through her Third Eye. Hermione had told her that it would quickly become natural and, according to Khany, she would not even have to switch between the two types of sight at all after a while. The magical vision of her Third Eye would simply become a sixth sense that her brain would handle simultaneously to the five others. She had to admit that she was a little worried about the effect such a change would have on her remaining humanity.

The book's pages changed briefly as she exercised switching between her two sights. Part of the text and diagrams were written in a magical ink that was visible only to her Third Eye and she was betting that those headache-inducing pages were actually aimed at provoking the result Khany told her about. It was like those optical illusions where your brain had to superpose two different images to get the whole picture.

"Hmm… this is not going to be easy," she said, rubbing her eyes.

 _The dual ink is not the only problem. Thankfully, this is a beginner's book and the potion gave us an understanding of basic Naacal metaphors, but it's still something written by a vastly different culture. As much as wizarding culture drifted away from European sapiens culture, many of the basics remain the same, like the influence of the Greco-Roman world or even some concepts of Christianity that probably got in through muggleborns. The only common points between Lemuria and modern civilization are either a matter of coincidence or because Lemuria is a very distant source…_

"Des-chan, may I come in?" asked a voice a second after a knock on the door.

"Father?" she asked, rising to open the door. Only one person called her that and she wasn't surprised to see the tall shape of Mikogami in the hall. "I thought that you would be busy until our planned trip to Borneo for the equinox… did something happen?"

"Nothing bad, I assure you. Ariel brought me some mail that we need to discuss together."

"Ariel… did you go see…"

"I did three days ago. Before you ask, I didn't tell you anything because it was for Khany and I to sort out. Neither of us wanted to involve you in case… some words were said."

"Fair enough," she replied, briefly hugging her father.

"Now let's… Mithra's Light!" he exclaimed, switching to Naacal as his fingers started to run almost fondly on the book Desdemona had been reading. "I remember those, though…"

His hand went to his brow, to the place where his Third Eye would have been. She did her best to stay unmoved. She knew from Khany's tale that compassion regarding his 'infirmity' was the wrong way to go.

"I actually had a question related to those books," she said in English, deciding that a clever distraction was needed. "How do you explain the difference between the wizarding sources which see us as the ultimate reference about dark magic and the reality of Lemuria?"

 _Here we go,_ thought Tenmei. _Let's see how she handles this lesson._

"A very interesting question… and well played to distract me from past regrets, Des-chan," he replied with his usual 'evil overlord' smirk as he sat on the corner of the desk. "You have two points to consider. The first is how Lemuria ended. The atrocities of the berserker curse influenced later stories and the subsequent barbarity of the Onis hasn't helped either."

"But that's not enough. If it was only that, earlier sources would go against it and yet, when I read those old schoolbooks… there is something about the way they're written… I thought it was just because I'm not used to Naacal writing styles, but that's not it."

"It actually is, because the way a language is shaped is but a reflection of the culture that created it. What you are feeling is the dissonance between the values you were taught as a human child, the instincts of your new Kishin flesh, the fact you learnt Naacal using a potion with Khany's knowledge of it and that you are now reading a text written by Kishins for Kishins. Let me take a simple example: can you think about the word 'murder' in Naacal?"

"Okay, but… why does it feel like it carries a different meaning from 'murder' in English?"

"Because it does. In Naacal, 'murder' evolved from a portmanteau of the words 'unlawful' and 'slaughter'. This reflects a social reality in Lemuria. Because of the way you learnt Naacal, you're feeling this meaning."

"You can kill if you follow the rules… Khany told us about ritualized duels."

"Exactly. One key difference that you need to understand is that contrary to a common trend of modern human culture, our ancestors were neither ashamed nor hypocritical about their nature of apex predator. Instead, they developed strong sets of ethical rules that I could summarize as 'how to be a responsible predator' and taught this point of view to all the sapient creatures of Lemuria. The duels you mentioned were a development of those rules and their goal was to prevent the wastefulness of a full-scale House feud."

She closed her eyes as the pieces of the puzzle started to assemble in her mind. All the things that had disturbed her in the Lemurian books she had studied were starting to make sense now that she stopped interpreting them with her human knowledge. Using only the meaning that both her Fomorian instincts and the understanding of Naacal she owed to Khany's memory potion brought her, a different picture formed. She had been looking at the problem the wrong way, just like so many European explorers did when trying to interpret other cultures through the filter of their own values.

"Am I right to say that Good and Evil as they are defined by the modern western world had little relevance in Lemuria?"

"The idea exists but what's in those 'boxes' is indeed different. Again, etymology gives us a hint in this matter. In Naacal, 'Good' and 'Order' share the same root, as do 'Evil' and 'Chaos'. To take a more practical example, I am sure that you thought about the morality of creating or uplifting species…"

"Yes, and comparing what I read in the biomancy manual of this series with what we just discussed, I'm starting to understand the Lemurian point of view. The whole 'Frankenstein' issue is just not there. Someone killed by his own creation is a careless idiot, not punished for tampering with God's domain… in fact, there is no idea of sanctity of nature whatsoever in the Lemurian texts I read."

"Now, that's an interesting point and to understand it, think about how our ancestors came to be."

"Of course!" replied Desdemona as she inadvertently snapped the pencil she was holding. "The Starstone! Fomorians always knew they were mutants! The first of our ancestors were probably far more diverse and a lot of the less viable mutations died out quickly. They could see natural selection at work! Even more: Khany told us about exposing infirm infants. In those times, it was necessary to weed out the undesirable mutations, to stabilize the gene pool. With the same probably being true for all lifeforms in the area where the Starstone fell… nature was never seen as constant or even cyclical, but as a chaotic, ever-changing mess in need of a guiding hand."

"You just summarized the second and third chapters of the Stanzas of the First Light. Knowing Khany, you should have a copy somewhere."

"I think I saw it. It's kind of the Mithraist Bible, right?"

"Really kind of. With what we just discussed, you can guess that the two religions have completely different opinions on many matters. For the one that concerns us right now, Mithraist Creation is not a one-time, sacred event. It is an ongoing struggle, Mithra fighting the forces of Chaos and the world being shaped as a result of a battle that will only end with the end of the universe itself."

"I suppose it is a believer's duty to help Mithra keep Chaos at bay and that people will be judged on their works in the afterlife?"

"Indeed. Between our ancestors' need for Order and control and a drive for excellency to please Mithra, things evolved into a pyramidal society that is technically a meritocracy. Families usually choose their leader based on magical power and talent. For someone raised in a western democracy, several unacceptable things become evident when you start to look at the consequences of this basic organization. The first is that, Lemuria being a multi-species society, the pyramid has degrees separated by biology. The Kishins are on top and the non-magical humans near the bottom. By this logic, uplifting becomes the moral thing to do, because it is a way to improve a species' position in the pyramid.

"The second problem is that the very idea of democracy is ludicrous to a Lemurian. Why should a leader have to listen to those below him? They are after all the best and wisest of all Lemuria and the only ones who can judge them are their peers or their superiors, if any. As a corollary, when your superior gives you orders, you obey without discussion. Things get a little muddled as belonging to a Noble House creates horizontal boundaries, making one able to refuse demands from superiors from a different House if they go against the orders of your House's superiors.

"Another crucial point is the one you mentioned with the old infant exposure custom. Lemurians had little pity for the weak. At best, they will be cast out to a lower degree of the pyramid, at worst, disposed of. Khany made quite a few enemies by being so lenient with me but, as the Empress, she was beyond judgment except by Mithra himself… until Balor decided to end a few thousand years of Ra-Mu rulership."

She nodded, unsure what to feel. In the end, the issue was not that either Khany or the wizarding sources lied. The issue was that the two versions were told by people who had a completely different worldview. Lemuria was an absolute monarchy where the Emperor had a religious role, not unlike the Pharaoh of Ancient Egypt or the Chinese Emperors, and a system of castes and noble houses that reminded her a little of the medieval feudalism, though complicated by the multi-species factor. The issue was that as evil as it may look from the point of view of a human raised in western democracy, a Lemurian would likewise consider the modern world evil. For a Lemurian, the western, consumerist society was a decadent culture that encouraged wastefulness and mediocrity.

 _Thank G… Mithra for my love of science fiction and fantasy. I need to reread Brin. His Uplift cycle seems more and more suited to my situation…_

"Father… did you ever think of the modern world as some kind of decadent place?"

"On occasion. My 'infirmity' and how I was treated because of it made me less susceptible to that bias than others. Sometimes, however, I wonder if I shouldn't organize a coup in some nations and create an efficient dictatorship to clean out the Augean Stables. A little later, when my romantic impulse has cooled down, I remember that the only reason why it worked in 'modern' Lemuria was the weight of millennia of tradition. I would need to train a whole generation before I could even start to obtain a similar result."

"Hence the school…"

"Sort of, but not with the goal of rebuilding the old Lemurian social pyramid. Now, to get back to more present matters, Khany sent Azrael to Ross and the old reaper decided to play butler for your family. He came up with a few interesting points that we need to discuss. Is Hermione around today?"

"At this time of the day… she should be doing summoning training in the Mirror Dimension. Father, if Hermione had been raised in Lemuria…"

"Given her talent, she would have been groomed to be an heir to the throne… and her education would actually not be that different from what she's experiencing here, except for one thing. In Lemuria, she would already have killed. Hunting would have been the first step, starting at age five. As a royal, she would already also have acted at least once as an executioner," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The goal of that latter point is two-fold. First, it serves to make sure royal kids won't hesitate to kill in a real fight. Second, there is the fact that, as a royal, she should be ready to deal herself the punishment of any judgment she might have to make. Des-chan…"

She raised a hand to interrupt him as she winced, closing her eyes.

"I know," she said, pain clearly audible in her voice. "I would like to believe that she will be able to live a peaceful life and never have to kill… but I read the information Eisheth gathered for us on Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Before… before I became a Fomorian, I was managing to lie to myself. I could think that all this training was 'just in case' when I doubted. But Kishins don't work like that. It's just as you said: we were never ashamed of being apex predators. When I'm not careful, I start to think that the best way to protect my family is a preemptive strike. I fear that once I'm back in England, back in my territory, it will just get worse."

"I can't reassure you, Des-chan. What you are feeling is normal for one of us. What I can tell you is that back in the old days… appeals to mercy or what Europeans would consider common decency were not the right way to cool down a Lemurian Kishin's wrath. Those would be seen as weakness and likely to finish convincing the Kishin that her decision to purge her enemy from the gene pool is justified. The way we usually dealt with these things was to make the person think about the bigger picture. For example, when Ra-Mu led the Lemurian armies in the subterranean jungle of the Dragon Lords, Wadjet managed to save her people by offering her unconditional fealty to our House and convincing him that the Nagas would be useful and loyal to the Empire if it was fair to them."

"Which triggered the 'don't hurt the enemy's cattle, but add it to your own' rule… Bigger picture, the Greater Good. I can do that. About Wadjet: isn't that an Egyptian goddess?"

"Yes. The whole myth of Ra going to the underworld every night to face Apep likely comes from the events I just mentioned. As for Wadjet, she is the 'good snake' in Egyptian mythos and a protector goddess. I think you can guess why."

"I can… let's go see Hermione."

* * *

Shortly after she started her training, Hermione had wondered where the loudest parts would take place. Sure, the gardens of the Huang manor were big, but this was still Hong Kong. At first, she had thought that they would use a Portkey to go to some place owned by her cousins' company in the southern islands or in the Chinese countryside. When she started to delve into summoning, she understood that this wasn't a matter of place. It was a matter of plane.

The water portal in the Huang manor not only allowed a link with other similar portals like the one of the Society's Headquarters in Kathmandu but also to pass into other dimensions like the one she was currently in. The Mirror Dimension had been in some way stranger than the other, fully alien worlds she had gotten glimpses of so far. For starters, it was the first one she physically entered – if she excluded pocket universes like Diagon Alley and Yokai Academy – but there was also the matter of its nature. The Mirror Dimension was a distorted reflection of Earth, one of the main differences being that it was devoid of life. Standing in the deserted streets of Mirror Hong Kong had been very strange at first.

There were two main reasons for the summoning training to be held here instead of the mansion itself. One was that, contrarily to the members of the Huang family, she did not have an exception built into the mansion's wards to permit that. She didn't really mind, as it was one of those magical courtesy things that managed to make sense. Hogwarts had similar wards from what Khany had told her but there was an automatic exception for teachers and students. The second reason was security. As the Mirror Dimension was empty of life apart from visitors, a summon breaking its bonds and going on a rampage was a lot less problematic.

She could not help but wonder how the Hogwarts curriculum would broach the subject. To her, it seemed rather logical that the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes should tell them about the dangers residing in other dimensions and the Charms classes would have to cover at least some basic summoning spells at some point. Yet, she wouldn't be surprised if most of it was labeled as too dangerous or even 'dark' and reserved to specialists like the Department of Mysteries of the British Ministry of Magic or the Viridian Veil Society. All she could say for sure for now was that it wasn't covered by the second-year material and that what she was preparing right now would definitely not be taught in Hogwarts.

"The circle is fine, sifu," she said while checking her notes one last time.

"I agree. While I am curious to see how you manage with this Lemurian version of the calling and binding ritual, I must ask once again if you are sure you want to proceed, given its nature."

Hermione's gaze fell on the sleeping ox inside the circle. This ritual was no simple charm like _Serpensortia_ but something both more powerful and with direr consequences. During a call she had the day before, Khany had confirmed that she had more than enough power for it and she did not doubt her skill. The only unknown parameter was her resolve.

"Yes," she replied, steeling herself as she remembered what she wrote Harry in her last letter. "Sifu… I know that it's only a matter of time before I have to kill my enemies. Better to harden myself now than risk failing later."

"So, you chose to test yourself in this way. A wise choice, but also a sad one. You can proceed with the call," replied Fuhai with a slight nod.

Hermione removed her right finger caps. She had taken to wearing the Lemurian accessories and discovered that they also had a 'manicure' function for her claws. She lifted the head of the ox with her left hand and, gritting her teeth, ripped out the animal's throat with her right hand. Thankfully, the ritual did not need to have her victim awake and in fact insisted on keeping the kill as painless as possible.

"The blood of the victim is the key that pierces the Veil," she said in Naacal.

Below her, the ox blood had started to slither on the ground, spreading to feed the magical circle she had drawn as it started to glow with an ominous red light.

"My blood, used sparingly, is the key that binds," she continued, pricking her right index finger with her thumb's claw.

She started to draw a symbol on the ox's brow with her own blood. The eight-rayed sun that was her House's blazon and a few Naacal runes meaning 'Blackstaff'. She dipped her fingers in the slain animal's throat and brought them back to her mouth. As the taste of blood played on her tongue, she realized that she had never felt as fully Fomorian as in this instant. The hesitations she had been keeping in check since she started planning this were gone. For the first time since the incident with the Polyjuice revealed her true nature, she felt like if her body fully fitted her, as if her new instincts were hers.

Hermione knew that once she was not in the heat of the moment, she would probably freak out… but not now. Now, she calmly walked out of the circle, uncaring about the blood covering her. In fact, it was essential to the ritual, as it was one of the elements that would create the link between her and the creature she was summoning.

"A life has been extinguished so that another can come forth," she continued, facing the circle. "I call the Neverborn Beast through the Void. Formless One, come wear the flesh I sacrificed!"

The surface of the circle started to undulate with scarlet light, as if sinews were moving under it. Ghostly strands pierced through and speared into the ox's flesh, burrowing inside like undead worms. The sacrifice's flanks sank as its flesh was consumed from the inside. Thankfully for Hermione, she was too focused on the next step of the ritual to be grossed out. She had the image of a creature in mind and was projecting it through the link created by the ritual.

The ox's flesh shredded as a protoplasmic mass of flesh erupted from the corpse, consuming it. The shape changed, becoming more fish-like with an oval body the size of a sports car with thick, white skin and a long tail of white bony plates and spikes. Hermione gazed into the beast's huge maw as it floated in front of her, thinking that a tyrannosaur would have been proud of those teeth. Finally, a unique eye started to shine from inside the maw.

She flared her youki, sending all of her aura against the creature and smiled as she saw it lower the front of its body in a kind of bow. Hermione entered the circle and put her hand on its head.

"I name you Fei-Oh," she said.

The creature acknowledged, finalizing the bond between it and her mistress as, around it, the circle finished vanishing.

"Good," continued Hermione with a gentle smile as she rubbed her familiar. "Now can you shrink down a little bit? I promise we'll go fly together soon."

The beast's size immediately started to diminish, and Hermione stopped it once its body was a little less than a foot long, with another foot for the tail. She let it perch on her right shoulder, thanking her super-strength.

"How do you find it, sifu?" she asked.

"Fei-Oh, the Flying Jaw… straight out of the 3x3 Eyes manga. While I appreciate the gesture, I hope that pleasing me was not the sole reason for choosing this shape?"

"No. I hate brooms and I have been thinking about finding something better to use for flying for a good while. Fei-Oh is a very good solution and… I cannot help but find it cute in familiar mode," she said while stroking the head of her new pet.

* * *

On a nearby roof, Desdemona was thanking the fact that she was wearing her finger caps. She would probably have clawed through the concrete border without them. A few minutes earlier, when they arrived in Mirror Hong Kong, they had both sensed power gathering and hurried to the training spot, her father carrying her as he used a flying spell. They had arrived just in time to see Hermione tear the throat of an ox and observed.

"Something you weren't aware of?"

"I would like to say yes… but I have only myself to blame. Hermione asked me for the permission to test that ritual and I didn't check the details, too busy with my own studies. I know why she did it, thinking she has to harden… she can be so stubborn!"

"I'm afraid it runs in the family, dear."

"Is this ritual considered advanced material from a Lemurian standpoint?"

She knew better than to ask about the moral aspects, given what they had discussed a short while ago. Despite its gory aspect, the ritual had wasted nothing and 'exchanged' an ox unable to spread its genes for a servant that would be very useful for her daughter. For a Lemurian, that made it good magic.

"Not for a royal."

She nodded, feeling the bitterness in her father's voice. Deciphering the unsaid was easy, again because of the points he had explained to her earlier. Lemurian society had no place for pampered princesses. The higher the caste, the higher the demands of the education children received. Royals were expected to be geniuses.

"Tenmei, what would have happened to you without… what the traitors did?" she asked, switching to Naacal.

"You are right to think that I would not have been able to be a normal member of the House. Becoming a full-time priest would probably have been the best solution to appease everybody… but it's no use bothering about what could have happened, Desdemona. Today's world gives us more than enough to worry about, don't you think?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Ojiisan, is that plan Dad talked about doable?" asked Hermione as she put down Ross' letter.

They had gone back to the normal world and were now sitting at a table near the pool. Fei-Oh was still perched on her shoulder, its tail coiling around her. Her Mum had not said much about the summon but Hermione knew that Desdemona had observed it and seemed a little sad… or rather resigned.

"Yes. There are not that many problems from the human side," replied Mikogami. "The official 'hole' in your mother's lineage gives us room to build a cover story and we have decoys we can sacrifice to pay for any succession rights issue that may arise. Wizard side… I kept things that way because I didn't want to catch the attention of some people in the Ministry. With your part of the family residing in England, this issue becomes irrelevant as the Ministry will notice you anyway. Creating the company will make you more visible, but also less vulnerable."

"And what do you think of the castle idea?" asked Desdemona.

"Eisheth and Azrael are right. A neutral place is the best solution. Once some the Fae clans understand that you are Kishins, your family being under one clan's protection would bring it immense prestige and create tensions with the others. It is far better for you to accept vassals of the various clans. A place in the countryside will also have the advantage that some things will be easier to hide or disguise."

"Couldn't we create a space like the one the Academy is in?" asked Hermione.

"Technically speaking, yes," replied Fuhai, "but the British Ministry of Magic will never allow for it."

"Correct," continued Mikogami. "The energies deployed by the Great Barrier generating the Academy's space are massive and I had to redirect several ley lines to power the thing. Putting everything in place also took years."

"And for something smaller?" asked Desdemona. "Enchanting a pouch for expanded space only takes moments and wizards do that kind of thing regularly, from what I understood."

"Yes," replied Fuhai with an enigmatic smile. "But this leads to a question you may have wondered about. Why didn't I do that here?"

"In case you have human visitors?" asked Hermione.

"It's one of the reasons. More recently, not being in a folded space also helps with having network for my cell phone. I'm sure Tenmei has stories about how fun it was to install land lines going through one of the access portals."

"As wizards are not relying on modern technology, they don't care, but apart from Diagon Alley… the Ministry building, maybe St. Mungo and a few of the old pureblood houses… all closed environments. Ojiisan, did you make the Academy space so big because of the ecosystem?" she asked, remembering some sci-fi books she read.

"It was a factor," replied Mikogami. "If you want to create an 'outside' space, then you need to think big so that the whole thing becomes self-sustaining. Otherwise, you end up with something like a greenhouse set inside a fallout shelter. Another factor to consider is the one that had Fuhai scrap the idea here: many of the efficient warding schemes he's famous for won't work inside a folded space."

Desdemona nodded. She had mostly launched that idea to make sure it was a bad one. Their suburban neighborhood near London was the kind of place where nothing happened and anything out of the ordinary would have people talk. A slip was only a question of time and there was no way she would start obliviating people just to stay there.

"Father, I suppose you looked at the list of houses Azrael put together. Which one do you recommend?"

"One caught my attention. It's an Elizabethan manor house that used to belong to a pureblood wizarding family. I heard about it when reading the info Eisheth gathered for me about Voldemort. The last tenant, Jasper Wilkes, was a known Death Eater who was killed by the Aurors a year before the incident with Harry. Without any remaining heir, Gringotts seized the house to make up for the family's debts.

"Nobody approached Gringotts about it, given the fee they ask to have their Curse-Breakers 'secure' the house. We won't have that problem of course. Both because we can do that ourselves – it will be an excellent opportunity to train your Third Eye – and because I suspect the Goblins voluntarily make things difficult for any pureblood buyers. What will cost is the refit to bring that house into the twenty-first century, but Azrael's estimations make it acceptable and the Goblins know better than to try to con Eisheth. One of the main advantages is that with the dark magic reputation of the house, nobody will notice if we make the wards… a little more aggressive. Another thing that makes it interesting is that it is situated near a village called Ottery St. Catchpole that Hermione surely already heard about."

"Yes, it's in Devon. It's where Ron's family lives."

"And I find the idea of using a blood purist's house for our needs very ironic," added Desdemona, her smile now in full 'evil overlord' mode. "To add insult to injury, I think we should rename it."

"Some would say it's bad joss," said Fuhai. "But in your case, it will be a central part of making the house and the land under it your home. I will give you the specifics of some rituals for that."

"There are Lemurian ones as well, specifically used when making an enemy land your own… What do you have in mind?" asked Mikogami, returning her smile.

"Graymalkin Manor. Ross will love the idea."


	12. Clan matters (Part I)

_Author note: Thanks to all the people who reviewed this story or marked it as a favorite, and apologies for the long wait. Comments, criticism and other opinions are always welcome._

 _One point that will make sense as you read: The events of a certain movie (and this story's last crossover) have yet to happen._

 _Thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter._

* * *

 _Hogwarts, 23 Feb 2003_

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _Nothing new to report about the Heir at the moment. I met Sir Peter again yesterday while I was coming back from Quidditch practice (he must have waited to talk to me alone, more on this below). While he couldn't tell me anything we didn't already know about the Chamber of Secrets, we discussed for a while about the time when he was alive, many centuries ago. I could not help but think about Binns' drone then and how different Sir Peter is._

 _He really knows how to tell a story and he told me about when he was a knight in the suite of Robert Curthose of Normandy, son of William the Conqueror. He described the wonders of Constantinople and the terrible things he saw and did while battling the Turks in the Middle East, even fighting a jinni. He didn't tell me why he took part but… I think he regretted something and hoped to be killed while fighting for a worthy cause, that it would help him to be forgiven for something he did._

 _And I get all depressing… anyway, Sir Peter was in Hogwarts near the time of the Founders and he also told me about how it was then. He said that things in House Slytherin were different then and that there was (his words) 'no pureblood nonsense' then. Slytherin looked for talent and ambition and did not care at all about the blood. In fact, Sir Peter thinks that Slytherin would hate what his House has become. Likewise, he thinks that the Heir is twisting Slytherin's heritage to his or her own ends._

 _I told this to Ron… and he doesn't believe it. I can understand him. Unlike you and me, he grew up in the Wizarding World and he was always told the crap Malfoy and the others are spouting about Slytherin being all for purebloods. You and I already had to question everything we knew once, so it's easier to do it a second time. I think Sir Peter knew it and that's why he came to me when I was alone, so that we could talk quietly._

 _I hate that. Ron is the first real friend I had and now I feel like we're drifting apart. I hope we will be able to fix that once you are back, hopefully next summer._

 _Take care and send us any funny news you can have. I think we need them._

 _Harry_

* * *

"Funny news…" said Hermione as she looked at Harry's short letter. "I will find something."

She had some pictures of Fei-Oh on her computer that she took during the flight tests in the Mirror Dimension… there would be the problem of her Fomorian features, but she could ask Fangfang to help her take a few new ones in the manor's park later today. As long as she didn't fly above the trees' canopy, it would be fine.

Another possibility would be to wait for her Mum to come back from Japan with cousin Moka on the 2nd of March… except that there were two problems with that. The first was that she would need to wait for several days and she felt like speed was better in this case. The second was that they wanted to keep Moka's presence in Hong Kong as discreet as possible, because of the Miao family.

"Pictures of Fei-Oh it is then… just have to omit the gore of the summoning ritual… right, and now the memory is making me hungry."

After the ritual, she had thought that she would freak out, that the fact she killed an animal with her bare hands and felt the blood spray on her would give her nightmares. Instead… oh, her dreams that night had been full of blood and gore all right, but they had definitely not been nightmares. Quite the contrary, she woke up pleased and with a ravenous appetite for bloody meat. It was only later, when she analyzed her behavior that she felt a sense of loss. Loss and not guilt, because she also understood that her subconscious had now accepted her body's new instincts and it meant that, just like her ancestors, she wasn't ashamed to be an apex predator anymore.

 _And this brings me back to the discussion I had with Mum and Dad about the differences between Lemurian and modern morality. Fomorians put together the first according to their own instincts and experiences and so did the modern humans for their own. The problem is how each species can adapt to the other's morality system, like with the position on murder. Modern morality sees murder as intrinsically evil while Lemurian one… not evil, but wrong. It's a crime because you didn't follow the procedure, not because of the act itself._

"As Dad said, Lemuria was such a wonderful mix of utilitarian and Nietzschean morals… all right, time to think about funnier stuff. Fei-Oh!" she called while taking her digital camera.

The familiar slowly uncoiled from its spot on her bed and floated lazily in her direction.

"Let's go outside," she continued as the monster put its head on her shoulder, its tail coiling around her waist. "I want to see if we can make that trick to turn a short movie file into a looping wizarding picture work."

* * *

"You know, Feihong, it's rather funny," said Desdemona. "I used portals to travel instantaneously over thousands of miles but, in a way, this is more impressing. I think it's because my old life can actually relate to… all this," she concluded, making a wide gesture toward the luxurious room around them, one that had more in common with a hotel's bar than with the economy class seats she had mostly used when traveling by plane.

The day before, while she had been busy planning an emergency trip to Japan following a call from her father about 'complications' at Moka's school, Feihong had just told her that he was – by total coincidence of course – about to pay a visit to the Tokyo branch of the Sanbao and that they could share the jet. It would also make things easier depending on the amount of luggage the girl would bring along.

"If you want to acquire one for your own use, I have several available offers, with or without magical improvements," replied Feihong with a smile. "Refitting jets like this Boeing 737 for corporate needs is one of the things my group does."

"For my… right. I really have to get used to being rich."

"As distances are shorter in Europe, maybe something smaller… I have a Falcon 20 that could do nicely, even more so now that you own one of Dassault's electronics suppliers from what I have seen of your portfolio."

"That's still… again, I will need a little time to get used to the fact that a few million pounds is not in the 'daydream about what I could do if I win the lottery' category anymore but in the 'yearly investment' one. I promise you to think about it. By the way, I thought the Sanbao was mostly a shipping and trading company?"

"Ah! We sure are! Have been since the time my grandfather Ning decided to trade tea and silk with the British in Guanghzou around 1820. We diversified when we started to establish an overseas office after we… well, let's be honest, our family had a hand in how the opium wars unfolded and Hong Kong was founded in part so that we could have a base free of Manchurian interference. My grandfather's idea was to stage a coup and put a Han emperor back on the throne."

"I suppose things didn't go as expected?"

"My grandfather's generation underestimated western technology, despite your father's repeated warnings on the matter. As for Great-grandfather, he was too busy with Viridian Veil business to get involved. We soon discovered that there are limits to how much we can nudge things. For example, our family was not able to prevent the communists from winning the civil war, just as your father could not prevent Japan from declaring war to the USA."

"He told me about that. Preventing the war would have required destroying the Statute of Secrecy, to reveal the power play of the ayashi factions behind the Black Dragon Society, similarly to how Grindelwald manipulated the SS in Europe… are there many like us, I mean rich yaojing who pull the strings of large companies?"

"A few. There are the Miao in China and Gringotts that you already know about. Speaking of Goblins, the Gunnarson clan – they're Dvergars, Scandinavian cousins of the Goblins – in Sydney have ties to several mining operations. Another one you will probably get in touch with is the K&H Trading Bank, which was founded in Zurich by two brothers, a wizard and a human, shortly after the end of World War Two. Finally, I would mention InGen as a transnational with a foot in each world."

She nodded thoughtfully. She remembered reading something about InGen in Eisheth's files… no, not directly about InGen but about the Hammond Foundation, a charity created by InGen's founder. The charity was well-implanted in UK and had a discreet foot in the magical world, mostly by helping disillusioned muggleborns to reinsert themselves into the human world. From what she had read, it was so because John Hammond himself had been in such a situation after Hogwarts.

 _And… yes, also something about Hammond's second wife, the one who made the tabloids' first page when I was pregnant with Hermione. As far as the magazines were concerned, it was mostly about Hammond marrying a young Japanese beauty and how he had lost it for giving her an important role in his company…_

"Speaking of InGen, have you ever met John Hammond's wife?"

"Once. We had to discuss some of the more delicate points about the equipment they needed for a 'mixed' research center they set up on an island near Costa Rica a few years ago. The funniest for me was… well, traders from New York I know call her the Ice Queen because of how she never loses her cool. What those traders don't know is that Tsurara Hammond née Shirayuki is a Yuki Onna," he replied with a hearty laugh.

"And therefore a literal Ice Queen… to get back on our initial topic, not much more in America I suppose? From what I read lately, many magical communities there despise western civilization too much to play that game… but what about the Tawantinsuyu? The Incas cannot ignore the game."

Among the shocks she had when learning about magical history, the magical side of the European colonization of America had been one of the biggest. Had the native magicals been a little more united, a little faster to understand the danger… they would have put a stop to both the human and the ayashi attempts at colonization. Instead, people like Cortes and Pizarro managed to play on the internal divisions of the First Nations, often recruiting local sorcerers who helped while the conquistadores' priests looked the other way. A little later, the diseases the Europeans unknowingly brought with them had also been an enemy the local wizards could not fight on a large enough scale to really matter. Yet, things took another unexpected turn near the end of the seventeenth century, making things a lot harder for the magical Europeans than for their mundane counterparts.

Ironically, it had been the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy in 1692 that killed any chance for large magical nations to develop in most of America, including anything resembling a magical version of the USA. The magical natives quickly understood that they could take advantage of the Statute to prevent the European wizards from having human support. The guerilla war lasted over a century until things stabilized with magical North and Central America settling into a patchwork of isolationist, tiny rural settlements and a few larger urban communities in cities like New York, Mexico City, or Los Angeles which pretty much functioned like city-states. Those city-states maintained some relationships and agreements, like issuing bounties so that hunters like Xochitl Villareal could take care of magical problems in areas without a magical community, but they were definitely not united.

Most of South America followed the same pattern, with one big exception: the Tawantinsuyu, the Inca Empire. The reason why was very simple: The Inca, the Emperor, had always been chosen depending on his magical power and in particular his seer abilities. Incan history books said that a year or so before the Spaniards arrived, Atahualpa had a very powerful vision. Exactly what he saw was unknown but the orders he then gave had terrible consequences. He decided to fool the Spaniards, to let Pizarro conquer a shell while he would hide the true heart of the Incan culture. Mass obliviations were performed, all memories of the Incan writing – which interestingly used a script based on Naacal – erased from the people and texts moved to hidden vaults. The true capital city was moved to Machu Picchu, a temporary solution until the hidden city of Akakor that the Inca had foreseen could be built on the western slope of the Andes. Finally, Atahualpa obliviated himself, leaving those who would keep the heart of the Tawantinsuyu alive under the protection of his chosen heir.

"It's a little special there, given that the Inca Empire is a curious mix of feudalism and socialism. The Empire has state-owned enterprises that interact with the human world, but no private company. Also, their goal human side is to help the native populations and make sure the big human transnationals stay away from some areas, not profit. Even in the magical world, the Tawantinsuyu doesn't bother much about countries beyond South and Central America, not unlike what China repeatedly did throughout its history."

"So, while technically one of the most powerful magical nations, they are not an active one?"

"Sufficiently to be easily forgotten by the Europeans who are the most active members of the ICW. However… things are moving there. After centuries spent ignoring them, they finally opened negotiations with the Mexican werewolf clans. As the current Emperor has been in place for three decades, there must be something else in the works."

"The Incan Emperor is always a Seer: what if he had a vision and decided to prepare the Empire for the future he had seen?"

"That's what the Siberian covens think, and I have to agree it's a likely option. To get back on the topic of rich yaojing, how are the fusions going with your companies?"

"Well enough that some people at the London Stock Exchange are starting to sniff around, from what Ross told me in our last call. According to one of Eisheth's sources, a journalist of the Financial Times has started to ask questions in several of our subsidiaries and this will only intensify as our group exits obscurity."

"Have you decided on a name?"

"Yes. Mandjet Industries."

"Isn't that the name of Ra's solar boat… I see. I had forgotten how much you Fomorians also influenced the Egyptians. So, you decided to be blunt?"

"In part," she replied, thinking about the _Mesektet_ division that they would likely set up for covert operations.

* * *

Desdemona took a deep breath. Even with the help of her third eye, she had a mere month of training with the human shape technique and going through customs would need her to stay inconspicuous. She felt her height lower and her mass compress, her self-adjusting Acromantula skirt suit following her changes.

 _Let's not think too much about how this very classy dark suit will just scream 'upper management' in corporatese… and is also better than Kevlar when it comes to stopping bullets._

She took out her pocket mirror, verifying that her face was all right. No trace of her horns or third eye which was good, but the technique still refused to give her an age corresponding to what was on her papers. She still looked like a woman in her twenties instead of her forties.

 _Not that I mind looking younger, but it may make things awkward with my acquaintances in England… though it could have been worse. With the right makeup and haircut to make me look a little older, it should be near enough for most people._

"You look fine," said Feihong. "The people from the customs will focus on me anyway."

"Why… it's about your scars?"

"Yeah," replied the yaojing, a smile on his lips as he traced a scar on his right cheek. "Some people around here have a tendency to consider that if you have a scar on your face, you're necessarily a yakuza. Granted, I'm technically a Triad boss and my scars are combat-related, but it's the principle of the thing."

"Still technically, wasn't the Sanbao trafficking opium with some unscrupulous Britons?" she asked back with a smirk, remembering their previous discussion about a rather unsavory part of her own country's history.

"Historically true but we haven't done that for over a century," replied Feihong with a pout that made her think of a sad teddy bear.

"Just teasing, cousin. Lingling told us the day we arrived that the problem nowadays was because of how the Statute made transactions bridging both worlds look to the outside observer… and I realize we may need some tips on the matter as we will probably have the same issue."

"True. Now that your stage fright seems to be over…"

She nodded and they exited the plane. A few minutes later, she could not help but feel a little sensitive when her travel documents were checked, though she was surprised at how quick some things went and at the level of deference the officials showed. Her worry disappeared when she remembered that her way of arrival, the official documents from her father's office and her clothes made her a corporate executive on a business trip, not a simple tourist. The airport personnel were simply giving her the VIP treatment.

She said goodbye to her cousin as they left the international zone. They were unfortunately both on a rather tight schedule and her father had arranged for transportation. She took her bearings, remembering the plan and instructions he sent her and walked decidedly toward one of the parking areas.

* * *

"You must be the Bus Driver," said Desdemona with a smirk as she saw a man in a blue uniform leaning against a black Mercedes with tinted windows, right on the spot indicated by her father's briefing packet.

"Many people call me like that, Mrs. Granger," replied the mustachioed ayashi as he lit himself a cigar. "Given my relationship with your father, you can call me Nurari."

"Call me Desdemona then. How is Moka?"

"Not well," he replied, opening the car's door so that she could sit in the back. "What did you hear?"

She got inside while he did the same in the front and drove away. She let her transformation go, taking advantage of the tinted windows. It wasn't that maintaining it was that difficult. As her base shape was humanoid, she didn't risk 'moving wrong' like some of the yaojing at the Huang Estate or 'forget to hide her tail' like the foxes of the tales. The issue for her was that even with her incomplete mastery of her new senses, she felt blind with her third eye closed.

 _Note to self: research glamour spells. They may be more of a hassle to maintain but they mean my third eye can stay active._

"Form the short report I got, she was bullied at her school," she replied, relaxing as her perceptions readjusted. "One of her tormentors tried to get fresh with her and Moka reacted a little too forcefully, sending him to the hospital with a broken arm. My father was worried that the local ayashi faction would try to make an example of her, just because she's a 'high-and-mighty-vampire'. That's why we decided not to wait for the end of the school year."

"That's the main points. Currently, the human school she's enrolled in is trying to hush things and make it pass as an accident. I don't expect them to show much resistance if we tell them that Moka is transferred."

"The teachers didn't stop the bullying?"

"Her homeroom teacher tried, but the others just became sneakier and took advantage of the fact Moka was already shunned by most of the other students."

"Getting Moka out of there is sorely needed and if I had known it was that bad, I would have done it earlier. As for this incident, I will certainly not punish her for defending herself. I will however make sure she has all the training she needs to ensure she can neutralize a human without harming him if need be. My cousin Tiantian sees no problem in integrating her in the training she's giving to Hermione and me and combat training is something a healthy vampire just needs… because we built them that way," she replied while massaging the base of her horns.

"Interesting tone. You got around the fact that the Lemurian notions of Good and Evil have little to do with what the Europeans put in those little boxes?"

"I had a discussion with my father about it recently… do you think we're 'dark', Nurari?"

"Personally? Never did. I'm old enough to know that things are never so simple and it's easier for us in Asia anyway. The 'Order and Chaos' mentality of your ancestors? We have a lot less problem with that way of thinking around here… thanks to your people in fact. The Nagas and the Yuki Onna respectively influenced Hinduism and Shinto and both people were originally Lemurian."

"It's a little more complicated with the Nagas from what I heard, as they were originally created by the Reptoids and begged my ancestors not to exterminate them… but it's true that they became model Lemurian subjects after that. To come back to the topic of Moka, I have enough Lemurian documentation to know what I'm doing biologically speaking. Culturally speaking, my husband will see John Stockton about a 'nanny'."

"Moka's lineage will be known, then."

"I am aware of the potential problems with Moka's stepmother. Honestly, how easy would it be for her to find Moka if she wanted to?"

"As long as Moka stayed in the human world without contact with the magical side of things… not easy but definitely doable for someone with Gyokuro's resources. The whole point however was that while Moka kept a low profile, the wicked stepmother was content to forget that our little princess existed."

"But in reach in case she needed her to further her political goals, of course. Well, we cannot have that, can't we?"

"You're definitely Tenmei-kun's daughter," said the Bus Driver with a laugh as the car entered a tunnel. Through her third eye, Desdemona immediately saw the warping magical fields and knew they were taking a shortcut. "By the way, did he tell you about the additional stop he would like you to do?"

"Yes, a former student of his I may be interested in recruiting for some projects my father and I discussed. We'll go see her after we fetch Moka. That's the most urgent thing now."

"I suspected as much," he replied as they exited the tunnel, soon entering in a small town.

The car followed the road until it stopped in front of a church she knew to be catholic from her briefing packet. She concentrated to take back her human shape and exited the vehicle.

"I'll go make sure a certain clique of locals does not disturb you," said Nurari, lighting a cigar. "Just in case, Tenmei warded the church."

She nodded and looked around. At first sight… a tranquil small mountain town, the kind of place she would have considered as a base for hiking. When you looked a little deeper, however, there was something, something that made this little town both a good hiding place and a problem for Moka. A passerby had looked at her in a certain way that had brought back a lot of bad memories, a way that said: 'you don't belong here'.

She knew that look. She had suffered from variations of it during part of her childhood, when too many people in their 'proper' neighborhood disapproved of her mother raising a child born out of wedlock alone. She remembered all the whispers, how some shopkeepers took a little longer to notice her than the other kids, how people made her feel that she was damaged goods.

She started to detail the façade of the church, wanting to distract herself from those thoughts. Her predator instincts were stirring, trying to convince her to flare her aura to make sure these lowly humans knew their place. If she started to think too much about it, she was sure that her transformation would slip. Remembering her father's counsel, she tried to convince herself that they were not worth her time and attention, that the Big Picture needed her to endure.

She heard the bark of a dog on her left and saw a little girl keeping it on a leash. Again, the predator in her stirred and she could not help but turn her head a little bit and look at the offending animal straight in the eyes. Its bark instantly became a pitiful whine as it laid on its back, presenting its belly to her, acknowledging her dominance. This pleased her, and she could feel that evil smirk that was the trademark of her family starting to creep on her face. Her eyes rose a little bit and fell on the girl. She was shaking, frozen in place by a fear she did not understand. The smirk died on Desdemona's face.

 _Me… she's afraid of me. Of the monster I am._

She turned her back on them and climbed the church's stairs, reining her youki in. She didn't speak enough Japanese to reassure the girl. She welcomed the single tear that ran on her cheek, knowing that there was still something left of her humanity. All she wanted now was… she was interrupted by a girl rushing outside of the church and stopping right in front of her, at the top of the stairs.

She was maybe thirteen, with long, light brown hair, big green eyes and aristocratic features that favored the European side of her Eurasian heritage. Desdemona could not help but notice the choker around the girl's neck and the cross hanging from it, probably the power seal her father had told her about. Her main attention was focused on other fine points of vampiric biology, however. The girl's skin was ashen, she looked too thin and her moves too jittery. She felt her anger for the people of the town rise again as she put those signs together, remembering the books Khany gave her. She climbed the last steps and went to hug the vampire girl, not caring at all about the big human guy who was now standing next to the little girl with the dog and looked at her disapprovingly.

"Hello Moka. I'm Desdemona."

She could feel the girl's unease… as if she didn't know what to do with a hug. An instant later it was as if something – probably all the tension of the previous days – broke and the young vampiress started to weep silently, her head buried against the Fomorian's chest. Desdemona kissed the top of her head and led her back inside the church. She soon noticed a human in a black clergyman habit who looked quite relieved to see them.

"Father Tanaka? I'm Desdemona Granger."

"Good morning, Granger-san. I must say I am glad to see you. Moka-chan was getting quite restless being stuck inside."

"The Bus Driver is taking care… of those people," she replied, knowing that the priest implied that Moka had to stay inside the wards for her own protection. "Moka, are you aware of the situation?"

The vampiress lifted her head. The moment her senses registered that woman's youki, her instincts had gone haywire. When Moka felt her being angry, she just wanted to destroy whatever caused it. When Desdemona hugged her, she instantly felt safe and cared for. It was as if… suddenly, she remembered the bedtime stories her mother told her when she was a small kid and she knew.

"You… you're one of the Masters?" she asked in what sounded to Desdemona like mangled Naacal. She tried to break the hug, to pay proper respect, but the woman held her tight with a strength she could not match in her famished state.

"In English, dear, and… we'll talk about this," replied Desdemona, kissing the top of her head again.

Moka felt utterly confused. If she was one of the legendary Masters, the creators of her race, why was she treating her like a… daughter? Shouldn't she be just a servant to her? Again, the woman's youki enveloped her as she felt her grow taller, probably because she released her transformation. Her concerns died as she basked in the so comfortable warmth, closing her eyes and resting against Desdemona's chest.

"I told her yesterday that a foreign Yokai family would take her in," said Father Tanaka, looking with interest at the three-eyed, horned 'demon' who showed so much affection for his ward. "Moka was preparing her luggage… I'll see to finish it while you talk to her."

"Thank you, Father. If your parishioners ask, I am her gaijin mother who finally managed to find her after a long search."

"Yes, it will do nicely… Granger-san, please do not judge them too harshly. It's just that… some old habits I am trying to break them out from. As you can guess, it's still a work in progress," he replied while leading them in the habitation part of the church.

He left them as they sat on the couch, Moka having found back some countenance.

"How do you feel about coming to live with me? Would you prefer to stay?" asked Desdemona.

"Of course, I'll come! It's not my place to de…"

"This is not what I asked," cut in Desdemona, silencing the girl by putting a finger on her mouth. "I asked you how you feel about it. Tell me what you want, not what would be proper just because your instincts are screaming at you that I'm one of the 'Masters'."

"I want to go away from here, so I'm fine with it," replied Moka, blushing with embarrassment. "The humans… I would be fine if I could never see one again. Maybe it would be different without the Statute of Secrecy… maybe I could show them why I cannot swim or take a shower at school… or maybe they would just try to stake me, I don't know. All I'm sure of is that the human kids hate me now and I heard that their parents are telling them to avoid me, that I am a kind of 'shameful child'. Even those who tried to be nice just stopped now, except for Father Tanaka. The things they say… I do my best not to listen even when they talk badly of Mother, but… I'm so sick of it!"

"Well, humans are a diverse sort. I'm married to one and I guarantee you that he is nice and doing his best to understand us, but I see what you mean. And your birth family?"

"I don't even know if Mother is still alive," she replied with a sniff. "One day, it was just after that earthquake hit the castle, she wasn't here anymore, and there was nothing left from her: no picture, no diary, nothing. I was sent away the same day. I know that it's because Father's other wife was back and she doesn't like me but… right now I would welcome even Kokoa-chan rushing in for her daily spar."

"Kokoa being your younger sister and Kalhua and Akua your elder sisters, right?"

"Yes. I miss them."

"Sadly, the situation hasn't changed and I can't promise you anything on this front… what I can promise you is that my daughter Hermione is eager to meet you and she hopes that you can be good friends. My husband and I will of course do our best to make you feel welcome in our family," said Desdemona as she took out a picture of she, Ross and Hermione taken during the spring festival. "This is my husband and my daughter. The picture was taken a few weeks ago in Hong Kong."

"We will live there?"

"For a while as we complete some training with our cousins, who are also looking forward to meeting you. The family patriarch, Touhou Fuhai, knew your mother well and I am sure he will be glad to tell you about her. After that, we will move back to our home in England."

She hugged the girl again and was glad when she felt Moka return the hug. Desdemona knew it wasn't enough, though. Motherly affection was not the only thing Moka was starved of.

 _But I need to wait just a little bit, wait for her to acknowledge our bond before I can offer it…_

"Thank you… obasan. I really think I will like it," replied the young vampiress, hugging Desdemona a little tighter.

 _Obasan… ah yes, it translates as 'auntie' and can be used either for a blood relation or simply as a way to address an older woman. It will do for now._

"Good, then welcome in our family, Moka," said Desdemona with a smile as she slashed her left wrist with a claw. "Drink my blood. I offer it freely and of my own free will, to honor the bond between us."

Moka didn't need to be told twice. Her eyes had locked on the wound immediately. She took the Fomorian woman's wrist and started to suck. She could not believe how rich and powerful it was. There really was no comparison with the transfusion bags she usually drank from. She didn't notice the Ra-Mu sigil briefly flaring in bloody light on her brow as the first blood drops passed her lips, while, in Khany's Himalayan Hermitage, her name appeared on a certain tapestry, with a line linking her to Desdemona.

* * *

"What in Merlin's name is that thing!" asked Ron as he looked at the picture.

Harry sighed. He knew he should have waited for them to be alone to open Hermione's last letter instead of doing it here, during the breakfast in the Great Hall. The thing was that with how things were going with Ron, he had preferred to indulge his friend when he asked for it. Ron was now holding a picture that had come with the letter and they were both looking at it.

The picture was a moving, wizarding one. Hermione was lying face down, with her feet in the air and her chin resting on her raised hands, clad in black silk slacks, something that looked like black slippers and a tiger-striped short dress, smiling at the camera and sometimes petting the… creature she was lying upon. The creature was a thing of nightmare, a kind of demonic monkfish the size of a car with pale leathery skin and bony ridges. It was floating calmly in the air, its spiky tail swaying lazily. The worst was probably the fact that the monster only had one eye that shone from inside its maw, a maw filled with huge teeth. Yet, Hermione seemed very comfortable on it.

A second picture showed Hermione playing catch with a dog-sized version of the same creature. This time, Harry could not help but notice the strange belt around her waist, a sinister-looking thing of jade and black metal whose details seemed to subtly move in the picture. As the picture's sequence progressed, the creature curled its tail around Hermione's waist and rested its head on her shoulder while she waved at the camera.

Harry returned his attention to the letter, wanting to read it as quickly as possible. He knew that what she was learning there was far from normal by Hogwarts standard and he remembered the warning Flitwick had given some weeks ago. Yet, there was something fundamentally disturbing there. Even her way of smiling seemed… maybe darker.

* * *

 _Hong Kong, the 26_ _th_ _of February_

 _Dear Harry and Ron,_

 _I want you to meet Fei-Oh (It's written in a way that means Flying Jaw in Chinese). He comes from a dimension called Naraka and I bound him as a familiar as part of my summoning studies*. As you can see, he's big enough to ride as a flying mount. Oh, I don't pretend he's as fast as your Nimbus but there are some other advantages, starting with the fact he's piloting himself and smart enough to understand my verbal commands. If you wonder what he eats, it's more or less like a human (he's got a bit of sweet tooth for Chinese pastries actually). Another ability he has is that he can change sizes (the second picture is him in his 'pet' size)._

 _I know he's not what most people (Hagrid is not most people, Ron.) would call cute but it's not what matters. Fei-Ho is affectionate and loyal and I hope you will get along fine when I'm back in England. I will write more soon. I have a field trip in Naraka starting tonight and I expect to take a lot of pictures I can send you._

 _Love_

 _Hermione._

 _* If a teacher sees the pictures and they feel alarmed about them, you can tell them we filed the papers for him being a familiar demon as per the Prague Treaty of 1766, so everything's legal._


End file.
